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Lance can’t decide how to stand right now. It really depends on who shows up, whether he wants to try to be sexy or shy or strong. He swallows and fiddles with the collar around his neck.

Bad luck got him in this position. Good luck will have to get him out of it.  

He presents as an omega at 13 years old. Effectively, the life as he knew it was over. He was taken from his family to an omega school to learn how to be a good mate. Then, he was sold at 16, as is customary.

Now, typically this would be the end and he would be a good omega and mother to children for his alpha. With luck, he would get a nice alpha who treated him right.

But, he is bought by a very rich man who takes on a bad investment deal. The man loses all of his 13 omegas, including Lance. A bit of bad luck, but not a complete disaster. Lance is still a virgin, his first owner never getting around to him.

So he is sold again to another owner, one that Lance thinks will work out. He is treated better than most omegas and even given his own room. His owner bites him and keeps the bite fresh, a sign of stability and ownership that makes Lance feel safe. Lance is preparing for his first real heat with his owner and the baby that might follow when his owner suddenly dies. A car accident. Just bad luck, they said.

Now Lance is almost 20. He is used goods. No alpha really likes an omega that is not a virgin anymore. He can’t go to an omega house either, no longer qualifying in age or circumstances.

So, he is sent by the courts to the auction. The auction is basically for used or defective omegas, for lack of a better word. Those who had back luck like Lance. Those who fought against their alphas. Those that had been surrendered like dogs to a pound by their owners for one reason or another. They stand in chains in a long row while alphas wander up and down casually glancing at them. Some of them are there just for fun, holding the hands of kids and pointing out omegas like they are pets at a petting zoo.

Lance would be angry, but he is so scared he can’t bring himself to feel the emotion.

He just wants a little bit of luck. That is all.

Maybe an alpha who had an omega who died. It’s a terrible thing to ask, but it happens and Lance would be a good omega to a grieving alpha. Or maybe an alpha who is kind but down on his luck money-wise. Even a rich alpha who just needs a spare omega to take care of his needs while his primary omega is pregnant or caring for the kids.

The worst case scenario is that no one is interested in him. Then, he would get sent to a brothel, terrible places where alphas can freely use omegas. There would be no hope of a normal life, of any type of stability or emotional comfort in any way at that point.

Lance whimpers and then shakes his head. He still isn’t sure what the alphas want here. He assumes an innocent pose, slightly cowered, eyes down, feet turned inward. But, then he thinks every alpha here knows that he isn’t innocent anymore. So maybe sexier would work better. Then he straights up a bit, pulling his shirt down so his collarbone is showing.

He is so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses a snort of laughter to his side. He turns quickly and sees an absolutely massive alpha standing next to him. He is beautiful, but also a little scary with a scarred face and metal prosthetic arm that looks like a weapon more than a limb. He stands there, silent and amused while staring at Lance.

Lance immediately drops his eyes and, without thinking, bows deeply. It is how, in omega school, he was taught that omegas normally greeted alphas. It is a bit out of fashion now and especially in these circumstances. Lance knows he isn’t a fresh-faced virginal 16 year old anymore meeting a potential life mate and partner. He is trash one step away from a brothel hoping someone will take pity on him.  

The alpha steps forward, placing a hand under Lance’s chin and lifting it until their gazes meet. The man still looks amused, searching Lance’s eyes before backing up and reading his chart. Lance quietly waits as the man reads. The alpha has an overwhelming smoky smell, more like a bonfire than a fireplace. It is strong, denoting a powerful alpha. Lance tries to send his own scent out, light and airy, citrus and sweet, hoping he smells alluring.

Then, before he can even realize what is happening, the collar around his neck is ripped off.

“Stay here. I’ll pay for you and then we’ll go.”

Lance is barely able to respond, managing to choke out a “yes sir” before the man quickly walks away.

A new owner. A new chance.

This alpha is scary-looking, but he isn’t a brothel owner. Those alphas are only brought in later to pick over the scraps of abandoned omegas.

Lance can tell from his clothes that alpha has some money. So, perhaps a harem then. That wouldn’t be so bad. Lance is perfectly willing to fulfil whatever role an alpha needs from a new omega as long as it keeps him away from the brothels. Maybe they just needed a new cook or someone to do the laundry. Lance can do that.

His mood is even lifting as the man approaches him again and unlocks the chains from around his wrists. Lance is quickly led outside to a nice vehicle, a range rover. There is a driver sitting silently in the front, a beta who nods at the alpha when he arrives.  

Lance crawls into the backseat along with the alpha.

The alpha is completely casual and in control, leaned across the backseat, casually looking out the window with an arm thrown across the top of the seat. He is the exact opposite of Lance, sitting tightly, making himself as small as possible with crossed legs.

“You are a good omega, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“My name is Shiro.”

“Would you prefer me call you Shiro or sir, sir?”

“You may call me whatever you feel most comfortable calling me.”

Lance stiffens. It feels like a trick question. Though the alpha hadn’t done anything bad to him yet, not really, he still feels like something is not quite right.

“Yes, sir,” he answers, clutching his hands in his lap tightly.

They don’t speak the rest of the way home. Lance can’t help but gape at the beautiful house they eventually stop in front of. It is a big, white house with large columns out front and a perfectly landscaped yard with flowering trees framing it. He immediately likes it even more than his former rich alpha owner, who kept his omegas in a living quarters that felt more like a dorm than a house.

“Like it?” Shiro asks, a hint of smugness.

“Yes, sir.” Lance answers immediately. He isn’t lying.

The driver opens the door open for them and they enter the house. Lance is mindful to stay one step behind and keep his eyes down despite his excitement at this new home. Immediately inside, there is a beautiful entrance with a spiraling staircase. Lance can’t hide his wide eyes.

He is quickly walked through the house, the kitchen, the living spaces, a glimpse of a greenhouse. Then, he is taken upstairs.

“So, I hear your last owner’s estate took all the belongings your owner gave to you. We will buy you some new clothes eventually. For now, I had your room fitted with some clothes I had on hand that should fit you.”

“My room?” Lance whispers back.

A room.

A space of his own.

Lance feels tears stinging his eyes as he glances around the large, comfortable room with a dresser and a vanity with a mirror and a window that overlooks a beautiful view and his own bathroom and a vase with white flowers sitting on the nightstand.

Lance whimpers.

“This is too nice for me, sir.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“We will also buy you makeup or whatever skincare stuff you need. Some basic toiletries will get you through the night in the bathroom.”

Lance curls in on himself.

A man like this should be getting a virgin omega, one of those 16 year old fresh-faced ones. Not someone like Lance.

Something is wrong.

“Sir, may I ask a question?”

“You may.”

“Can you tell me how I will be of service to you here? What you consider my duties to be?”

Shiro laughs. “Your duties? Serve me in any way I ask, when I ask. Otherwise, stay out of my way.”

Lance nods, feeling his stomach clench.

“By the way, we should go meet Keith.”

“Keith, sir?”

“My other omega.”

It is to be expected. Lance knew there would be at least one other omega and perhaps even a harem. Perhaps his earlier suspicions are correct. Some rich alphas take on second or third omegas in addition to their primary omega to be servants of sorts. Maybe Keith is pregnant or taking care of babies and needs some help caring for Shiro.

This is actually one of the best case scenarios, so Lance isn’t particularly worried as they make their way down the stairs and outside.

Lance knows how to act in this situation. The primary and first omega is the queen. They make the rules. Lance is fine with that. He hopes they can be good friends, him and this Keith. He is good with kids and will offer to help, though if Keith wants to do it alone then he will respect that. Lance is fine with taking the grunt work on, the cleaning of toilets and cooking for the entire family as long as he gets to stay in the home and have his own room.

He imagines this Keith will be very beautiful. An alpha like Shiro would settle for no less than that. Beautiful and soft and fertile. Pure. Probably bought at 16 and has been making a home and family here ever since.

His chest clenches with affection already. The bond between omegas in a household could be a very close one, one that is even closer than the bond with an alpha. They serve the same alpha and, together, raise the children. Lance feels something that feels dangerously like hope shooting up in his stomach.

They reach what looks like a large building.
“Our gym,” Shiro says. Lance nods, wondering if Keith has the kids in a pool or perhaps he is cleaning the gym after Shiro’s morning workout.

They step inside and Lance is immediately greeted with a harsh scent, one like key lime pie where there is some sweetness, but also a tangy tartness that dominates.

He winces a bit.

“Here he is, the love of my life,” Shiro says, tone veering toward something sarcastic.

They walk through a doorway and there is a man boxing with a punching bag and no shirt on. His hard muscles coil and extend with each punch. He is ripped, a six pack and muscular arms. Lance would borderline not realize he is even an omega except for his scent. The man turns and looks in their direction, an angry snarl on his face.

Lance swallows, immediately eliminating all thoughts of the soft, maternal best friend Keith he had conjured in his mind.


This Keith is a thunderstorm of energy and hard lines. There is anger in his face that Lance would never dream of expressing, especially not in front of an alpha.

He storms over and Lance cowers, not being able to stop himself from stepping a bit behind Shiro. He isn’t sure how to act in this situation. He bows, exposing his neck, trying to become the image of submission.  

“Who the fuck is this, Shiro?” Keith yells.

Lance can’t stop himself from gasping out loud.

Shiro only laughs though as he slings an arm around Lance’s shoulders.

“My new omega. I trust you will make him feel very at home, yes?”

It is the same sarcastic tone as before. Lance shivers, realizing that he has been thrust into a domestic situation of sorts.

Keith glares at him with such intensity that Lance can still feel it even as he is led back away from the gym, Shiro’s heavy arm caging him in close to the alpha’s body.  

Chapter Text

Though Lance is happy he isn’t at a brothel, the amount of discomfort in Shiro’s house makes him briefly wonder if he should wish that he was. Shiro sent him to his room after introducing him to Keith. Lance obeys and sits uncomfortably on the end of the bed.  An hour later, he is still sitting on the end of the bed, waiting, listening to the muffled sounds of Shiro and Keith fighting.

He can’t imagine fighting with an alpha. He has no way to comprehend a relationship between an alpha and omega that would lead to this. Fighting with an alpha is seen as an unspeakable sin, one of the worst things an omega can do. He doesn’t know what to do in this situation or where he fits in. Should he try to soothe the situation? He did have classes in conflict management. Or, should he stay out of it? The bond between a first omega and the alpha is to be respected at all costs. But, his new alpha is upset and it’s his job to soothe him.  

Lance trembles, so confused that all he can manage is inaction until ordered otherwise. He hears Keith tell Shiro to go fuck himself and shakes harder, waiting to hear this clearly crazy omega thrown into chains to be hauled off to auction or, worse yet, killed for his behavior. His stomach twists in knots thinking of an angry alpha, especially one as big and scarred as Shiro. 

Eventually, the voices wane though and the door creaks open. Lance immediately stands, bowing his head.

“Come,” Shiro says simply. Lance does, following Shiro to the beautiful kitchen area.

Keith stands to one side, unchained and alive, but glaring angrily at both of them.  

“I’m hungry. Make us dinner. Keith, take a seat,” Shiro says, like he wasn’t just in a yelling match with his defiant and unhinged omega.

Lance nods and walks over to the fridge, pausing when he reaches it.

“Do you have any preferences, sir?”

“Do whatever you can. You won’t find much to work with. It’s Keith’s job to shop so if you fail you can blame him.” 

“Hey, I’m supposed to…” Keith starts before being cut off.

Sit down, Keith.”

Lance’s knees go weak at the sound of Shiro’s alpha voice. He barely stops himself from sitting down, right on the kitchen floor. Only the clear indication of the order being aimed at Keith stops him.

Keith sits, quickly, but with a clenched jaw.

Lance freezes, trying to run through all of the things an omega is supposed to do when an alpha is displeased enough to use that voice. Should he kneel? Soothe Shiro? Scent him?  

He keens, settling on making a pleasing sound to try to help his alpha.

“Lance. Dinner,” Shiro says, ignoring the noise.    

Lance takes a deep breath, grateful for the direction. He puts his hands on the fridge with shaking hands, not wanting to keep his alpha waiting and hungry. But, he also can’t open the fridge, not yet.

“Ma’am, do you have any rules that I should know before using your kitchen?” Lance is truly scrapping the bottom of the barrel for etiquette rules. Technically, the kitchen is the omega’s domain. He should be asking Keith permission to use Keith’s kitchen. However, he had been directly ordered by the alpha to use the kitchen so he settles for this awkward show of deference.

“If you ever call me ma’am again, I’ll kill you,” Keith answers, venom in his voice.

Shiro snorts with laughter. “Just call him Keith. Now, do I have to ask you again to start dinner, omega?”

His voice isn’t quite upset, but Lance notes the switch to omega instead of his name. He quickly pulls open the fridge.  

Now, Lance considers himself a good cook. He had a big family before omega school and then excelled once there in culinary arts. The contents of the fridge and cupboard fill him with anxiety and confusion though.  

There is chocolate milk, protein powder, moldy berries, energy drinks, barbecue chips, some pasta, a few scattered spices and really old parmesan cheese, bacon, half a bag of premade pregrilled Tyson chicken strips, the gross kind, and half a jar of alfredo sauce.

He assumes that most of their meals are either chips or pasta with sauce. That, or take out.

Not a balanced diet at all, not for an alpha and not for an omega who should be preparing to bear children one day.

He sets his jaw and decides to make the best out of what he has though. He isn’t stupid. He knows he is in a situation he doesn’t entirely understand yet, but he also knows that no one buys an omega that has had three owners. No one. He desperately wants to stay here, to please this new owner, to stay in the little room gifted to him.

“May I use whatever I want, sir?” he asks.

“Of course.”

He hears Keith snort, but ignores it.

Lance quickly sets to making dinner. He boils the pasta in salted water at the same time as cooking the bacon. Then, he tosses the pasta in a small bit of vegetable oil he finds (he would kill for some olive oil). There is not much he can do to the chicken strips and alfredo sauce, so he settles for trying to add some flavor with salt, pepper, and some onion powder he finds. He wants shallot, but it is what it is. He tosses everything together, making sure everything is warmed through. Then, he sprinkles the bacon on top and then tips some parmesan on it.

Throughout the process, he hears little snippy comments and the occasional derisive snort coming from Keith. It is enough for Lance’s patience to start wearing thin. He didn’t create this situation. He didn’t ask for the life he has had. And he’s trying his best.

Anxiously, he hopes he did well. There really isn’t much else he can do, unless they expect him to create something out of nothing.

With a worried face, he spoons the entire mixture into a mixing bowl and then presents it to Shiro.

“None for Keith?” Shiro asks, staring at him.

Lance balks and then answers honestly. “The alpha gets served first and eats as much as he wants. At least, that is what I have always been taught. I will follow whatever rules for the house you wish me to follow though, sir.”

“Kiss ass,” Keith mutters under his breath.

Shiro only smiles at him though. “Get two bowls for you and Keith.”

Lance does so, returning a second later to see Shiro taking his first bite. He chews thoughtfully before speaking.

“It’s great. The best damn homecooked meal I’ve had in years.”

Lance preens under the compliment, not missing the way Keith slumps down in his seat.

“What would you do to make it better though?” Shiro asks.  

“I did the best I could, sir.”

“With the terrible products you had to work with?”

Lance looks between Shiro and Keith. He doesn’t like this situation. He should be deferring to Keith just as much as to Shiro. Of course, the alpha comes first, but he wants to keep peace with Keith, the first omega, the first bonded mate. He struggles against being invited to criticize him, even indirectly, even if he secretly thinks Keith is a terrible omega.

He stays silent, dropping his eyes.

“What if you could do the shopping? Answer me.” Shiro prods. 

“He threw some damn bacon on some pasta! Stop acting like he fucking painted the Mona Lisa or some shit,” Keith barks.

“Lance, you haven’t answered me,” Shiro says, not even glancing in Keith’s direction.

Lance shivers. He knows he is treading in very dangerous waters. He understands that the two are fighting and even makes the inference that they are an actual couple with real feelings involved somewhere. If not, Shiro would have just dropped Keith off at the auction house or beaten him into submission, as alphas are legally allowed to do. Real feelings make things even trickier though. He decides to stay as safe as possible.

“If you and Keith decide to assign the shopping to me, then I would do my best to create tasty and healthy dinners for both of you. I would be honored to do so and have had extensive training in fresh, organic ingredients and homecooked meals,” he answers carefully.

Keith shakes his head. “Jesus, brainwashed stepford omega…”

“If I gave you a credit card with no limit and told you to recreate this meal any way you wanted, then what would you buy?”

It’s awkward, still, but Lance knows that he has to answer a direct question.

“Real, fresh chicken meat. Some better quality pasta. I can also make a simple alfredo sauce out of cream that is delicious. Shallot, or onion. I always like garlic bread with this type of meal too. Some different, fresher spices…olive oil. Oh, and some broccoli.”

“Broccoli?” Shiro asks.

“Repulsive, broccoli tastes like vomit,” Keith says.   

Lance tries to remain patient at Keith’s constant jabs, his constant judging eyes, but it’s getting harder and harder. Why can’t this other omega cut him a break? He’s just following their alpha’s orders. “Vegetables and fruits are part of a balanced diet. Your body needs fuel, lean protein, carbs, healthy fats, but also plenty of fruits and veggies. Each meal should contain three different food groups, if not more.”

“All of that shit is gross.”

Lance clenches his jaw. “Says the person who buys chocolate milk and a jar of alfredo sauce and calls it a meal.” He can’t help jabbing back at Keith, just this once. Lance immediately winces though, waiting for Keith or Shiro to hit him for his impertinence.

Nothing happens though. Keith’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.  

Shiro, who had been silently looking back and forth between the two, stares at Lance for a moment and then laughs loudly, the action creating little crinkles around his eyes. “I think I made a great purchase today,” he says, wiping a tear from his eye.

Lance thinks his alpha looks very handsome at that moment, laughing and calling him great.


The penis. Creator of life. That is what you should consider it, because that is what it is. The penis creates life, all life. An alpha’s penis is the giver of quintessence, that which gives us all sentience and souls. Worship it. Treat it right. Treat it gently. Give it the respect and deference it deserves.

Lance’s biology class lecture repeats through his head as he leans down, Shiro’s cock shoved down his throat.

After dinner, Shiro led Lance into the master bedroom, sending a distraught looking Keith away. Then, he had walked into his room and casually sat in a recliner located in the corner away from the huge master bed.

“You’re a good omega aren’t you?” he asked Lance, a small smile on his lips.  

“I will try my best to fulfill your needs, sir.”

“Then fulfill my needs.”

Lance wasn’t born yesterday. He knows why an alpha brings an omega into a bedroom.

“Do you have any preferences, sir?”

“No. Show me what they teach you at that fancy omega boarding school.”

So Lance did just that.

He doesn’t spend a lot of time on foreplay. He can sense that isn’t what Shiro is looking for from a strange new omega. He needs to show off his skills. He needs to prove his worth. He needs to assure Shiro that he comes first, even at the expense of Lance’s own pleasure or comfort.

So, Lance kneels and worships between Shiro’s legs.

Shiro’s alpha scent is so strong down there that Lance genuinely gets a bit hazy, a bit high on it. He gently spreads Shiro’s massive thighs and pulls his cock out, light-headed with the sudden aroma hitting him in the face. Shiro is, by far, the most alpha alpha he has ever experienced and, on his knees before him suckling between his legs, it’s easy for Lance to believe that Shiro’s cock is the giver of life, the genesis of creation, a sacred thing of beauty.

Lance squirms, letting Shiro smell how wet he is, how pleased he is, how much he enjoys this. He knows alphas like that, when you love sucking their cocks.

He looks up at Shiro with grateful eyes as he takes each inch down his throat. Lance is gifted in this area. No gag reflex. They all praised him while he practiced in biology lab on a dildo.

He works his throat around the massive length, swallowing down precum and gripping one of Shiro’s massive thighs to steady himself.

He licks and sucks, drinking down Shiro’s cum when he finally peaks, greedily downing every drop like his life depends on it, partially because it does. 

He wants this alpha to keep him. He wants this alpha to save him from the auctions, even if it means usurping Keith’s position. Even if it means sucking his cock like he needs it to breathe every night.

It isn’t just a blow job and Shiro isn’t just an alpha. He is a potential savior for Lance.

Life giving.

A second chance.

A room of his own.

A place to stay.  

His alpha.

A home.   

Chapter Text

Lance gets up the next morning and waits for a while before nervously padding out of the room Shiro gave him.

With no specific orders and no Shiro in sight, he falls on old habits and makes a quick breakfast out of whatever he could find in case Shiro wakes up hungry. He can’t find Tupperware, so he puts it in a bowl with a scrap of plastic wrap over it. Then, he starts cleaning.

By lunch, he had scrubbed all the floors and walls and cleaned the bathrooms, at least the ones he knows he has permission to enter. He is about to go outside and start weeding when the front door slams open. Keith is standing there, eyes open wide at the house being cleaner than he has ever seen it, barring when Shiro and him bought the house together.

Then, his eyes darken and narrow at Lance. Lance steps back, bowing his head and keeping his eyes trained on the floor. He tries to be the picture of an obedient omega, one that would help Keith, not hurt him.

Keith shakes his head and then stomps across the floor, combat boots heavy with mud leaving tracks with every step. A second later, Shiro steps inside.

“Wow…hey Lance, clean the floor, ok?” he says before casually walking across the mud-drenched floor.

Lance clenches and unclenches his fist before doing just that.


It starts slow, just like that.

Shiro taking a bite of a new chicken alfredo Lance had made and immediately spitting it back out.

Lance takes a bite too and it tastes like he put 2 cups of salt in the dish instead of 2 teaspoons.

He figures he just made a mistake. He is in a stressful situation. Keith doesn’t speak to him and only glares. Shiro is friendly, but in a way that doesn’t feel warm at all.

Lance still feels like he is auditioning or taking part in some weird relationship issue. He has no one to talk to about it. Keith hates him and it is inappropriate to ask questions of your alpha.

So, maybe he scooped in too much salt or accidentally added it two or three times. He immediately remakes it, kneeling before Shiro first to ask for forgiveness, and then cleans the dishes as Shiro and Keith watch TV. They sit several feet apart on the couch, not touching, but also not uncomfortable with one another. Lance steals glances at them, trying to figure out the mystery behind the two.  

Keith is unlike any omega he has ever met. He acts like an alpha. He’s rough around the edges, gruff and sulky at times, and talks back to Shiro. Lance cannot fathom an alpha like Shiro actually liking an omega like Keith. Lance briefly considers that maybe Keith is some sort of obligation-an omega inherited from a beloved dead brother or maybe even family of some sort. Cousins pairing off isn’t entirely unheard of even today. But, if so, Lance assumes Shiro would just set Keith up in a wing of the house and then ignore him.

But, he doesn’t. The mismatched pair spend time together. They wrestle. They ride motorcycles together. One time, Lance walks by Shiro’s room and sees Shiro sitting in the recliner with Keith in his lap, a firm grip on Shiro’s hair tuft, pulling his head backwards and saying something intensely. Too far away for Lance to hear, but he scurries past quickly, feeling like he just experienced…something. Something intimate.  

Lance can’t figure it out, but vaguely feels like he is missing something important.


The next night, after a long day of trimming hedges that hadn’t seen a hedge trimmer in years, Lance is tired, but happy. No sign of Keith today. Shiro had pat him on the head, pleased with eggplant parmigiana for dinner. Lance gets to go back to his own little room and take a bath before crawling into his large, comfortable bed just for himself.

He is just stretching out, just uncurling his long legs when something slimy rubs against his leg.

The scream he lets out is one that could break glass. He can’t help it. His fight or flight instincts turn on and he omega shrieks, barely avoiding using his shrill.

Shiro is there in mere moments, a snarl on his face. Weird dynamic or not, no alpha will stand for someone else hurting an omega he owns in his house.

“What is it?” he growls as he enters the room.

“Something’s in my bed…” Lance says, panting from adrenaline, but already feeling like maybe, just maybe, he overreacted.

Shiro pulls back the covers to reveal a rather large garter snake. Big, but harmless.

“I was already asleep, Lance. If you can’t handle one tiny garter snake, then maybe you can’t handle being in this household.”

Then, he is gone.

Lance’s feels tears prick his eyes. He feels scolded, like a school child. All his insecurities come flooding back to him. He grabs the garter snake, letting it wrap around his hand as he carries it outside. They are harmless and beneficial for gardens so Lance isn’t going to take his failings out on the innocent snake.

Then he hears it.

A snicker.

It’s so muffled he thinks he misheard.

As he rounds the corner, he sees Keith, with dirty combat boots, standing in the hallway, hand over his mouth, trying to stop himself from laughing.

His hands look a little dirty and, suddenly, the truth hits Lance.

The snake that somehow found its way into his bed at night on the second floor of a sturdy house.

The extra salt in the alfredo even though Lance never does stuff like that.

The mud in the hallway.

Something like anger boils up in his stomach.

With head held high, he stomps across the floor, holding the squirming snake. He makes no eye contact as he passes Keith by, making his way to the garden even when he hears Keith burst into laughter behind him.


“Make yourself look nice.”

A simple request. One that isn’t hard for Lance.

Yet, as an order given from his new, strange master, Lance spirals into panic.

He’s given a credit card, a driver, and a time that he has to “look nice” for. Shiro wants to take him out.

He isn’t given many details other than that and Keith is, no surprise, in the gym beating something up again. Lance knows he can find no help from the gross, lazy omega that has somehow shackled himself to Shiro.

On the ride to the mall, he squeezes his hands nervously in his lap and plays with the collar around his neck. The collar would keep him safe-no one messes with a collared omega, especially one with such an alpha as Shiro.

“I don’t mean to pry and you can tell me to back off if you want to, but your distress smell is starting to make me light-headed. Can I help?”

The driver, a beta in a nice suit except for a yellow headband, looks at Lance through the rearview mirror.

“Uh…am I…is it wrong for me to talk to you?” Lance asks.  

“No? Well. Within reason?”

Not that Lance would ever breach code of conduct for discussing alphas or their affairs to other people.

“Shiro is taking me out tonight…”


“I don’t know what to wear. What does he like? Are we going somewhere classy or casual or a club or what? Does he have a favorite color? Feature? I haven’t done make up in a long time. What if I mess it up? Or he doesn’t like make up? Oh god, what if I embarrass myself…embarrass him…oh jesus…oh god…”

“Whoa! Whoa slow down there, buddy. Deep breaths. Calm. Let’s walk through this.”

Lance nods.

“I’m driving you tonight. It’s a club. I don’t think he will be too picky about what you wear. He likes pretty omegas though so…look pretty.”

“Am I pretty enough for him?”

“You are so pretty, dude.”

Lance smiles.

“You seem fairly knowledgeable about this omega stuff anyway. Omega priming school, right? You will do fine.”

Lance finally breathes easier. “Thanks, man. Needed it. Just…a new home and I want to do my best.”

Lance doesn’t miss the way the driver’s eyes flicker over to him in concern, a weird look on his face before he forces a neutral face instead.

He’s dying to ask. He’s dying to know more about the situation and he assumes this man knows it. But he can’t. It isn’t proper for him to pry. So he sits silently, hands folded in his lap.


It takes him 3 hours to pick out the right outfit, accessories, and make up, as well as some skin care and other bath and beauty goods. Shiro had told him that he wants his omega looking nice and money isn’t a concern for him.

Lance takes him at his word and goes home to get to work.

The first major step is getting all the stubbly hair he had growing on his body off. Omegas are generally preferred hairless except for their heads and eyebrows. Everything from nose down should be shaved clean.

Lance keeps to this, but tends to be a little hairy naturally, meaning he can have stubble in just one day of growth. At the store, he bought a good straight edge razor, sharp, looks like a weapon more than anything else, but provides the closest shave he can achieve.

He is balancing delicately in his room in front of the mirror, naked and leg hiked up on the dresser, getting to the harder to reach areas of his thigh and knees, concentrating so much that he doesn’t even realize Keith is there until he bumps into him, a deliberate shoulder check.

Lance stumbles, losing his grip and barely catching himself from falling. When he rights himself, he sees a long, thin cut beading blood on his thigh. He blinks.

“Oh sorry didn’t see you there. I need one of the spare towels kept in the linen closet,” Keith says, smirking.

Lance grips the razor tightly, a feeling of actual anger swelling in his chest. His beautiful, perfect skin that he works so hard to keep nice. The thin line of blood. Keith standing there, smiling at him, a dare in his expression for Lance to try something.

“You…you…you have a mullet!”

“Excuse me?”

“A mullet! And your clothes are ugly!”

Keith is silent for a moment and then he looks Lance up and down.

“Well, you look like a scarecrow. Seriously, how are you an omega?”

“How am I an omega? That’s rich coming from someone like you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You belch at the dinner table and you don’t wash your face and you…you…you’re an asshole!”

Lance immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. Keith eyes widen and then he laughs.

“Oh, little sad pathetic omega who has never had an independent thought in his life shocked by a curse word? Not surprised. Do you need to go apologize and kneel before Shiro for forgiveness?”

“You…you…” Lance is so frustrated he can’t even get the words out.  

“Or maybe you need to kneel and beg me for forgiveness, as the secondary and lesser omega of the house.”

“I can’t believe Shiro ever wanted you.”

It’s the one step too far.

Lance immediately finds himself pressed against the wall, one arm shoved against his chest.

“Listen, little omega. Don’t talk about things you don’t understand and don’t ever speak about Shiro and me like that.”

It’s a direct order.

As soon as Keith backs up, Lance kneels, bowing his head almost to the ground. He fucked up. He attacked the head omega. An unforgiveable sin.

Keith stands for a moment though Lance can’t see his expression. Then, he is gone in a flash, practically running out the door.


What else can Lance do but pick himself up and keep preparing like normal? He half expects Keith or Shiro himself to come in and beat him or chain him up and take him to auction. Every little sound makes him think its coming. But, the time Shiro told him to get ready for crawls closer and Lance can’t be unprepared for his alpha.

Lance shakily shaves, moisturizes, lotions, and body butters himself. He applies some make up before slipping into the slinky little blue dress he bought for the night. He decided to show off his back, one of his best assets, with a plunging back of the dress that hit just above his butt. The front of the dress covers more. He had always learned that you only expose one part of yourself to be sexy-all parts means you are a whore. So, the dress is a reasonable length and covers his entire chest area to make up for the nearly nude backside.  

Then, he works on his hair and some delicate jewelry and finishes with a spritz of body glitter.  

He apprehensively makes his way to the front foyer, seeing Shiro standing there looking like a dream in a waistcoat. Keith hovers beside him, looking down at the ground. Lance has to stop himself from snorting at Keith’s outfit. He had tried, kind of. He is wearing a black pair of pants one step nicer than his normal ones and a button up red shirt. The regular black combat boots sit on his feet. He looks nicer, but definitely not omega nice.

“Lance,” Shiro says, reaching out to grab Lance’s hand to twirl him around. He openly checks out the omega and Lance lets him, hoping he had made the correct decisions. Shiro nods approvingly and then they set out.


The night starts awkward. They crowd into a booth at a busy, loud nightclub. Shiro sits in the middle and Keith pouts so hard on the other side that Lance feels uncomfortable. Shiro doesn’t seem to mind though, ordering them all beers. He also seems to be popular, multiple people walking over to say hi or to fist bump him.

Lance does his best to look pretty, smiling and approachable without expecting to be spoken to by the alphas that talk to Shiro.  He can also do little to hide how excited he is. This is his first time being in a place like this and he can tell people are checking him out. He preens under the attention. The music is loud, there is dancing and lights, and Shiro has a firm arm around his waist, pulling him close to his body. Lance relaxes, sipping daintily on his beer and listening to all of Shiro’s small talk with strangers.  

Midway through the night, Shiro pulls him even closer. “Lance…will you dance for me?” he murmurs, voice low.

Lance looks over at the dance floor, a slightly elevated place with poles for the more daring dancers.

“Of course,” he answers, flashing a smile at Shiro before standing up and crossing the distance to the stage. He turns and looks once back at the table. Shiro is watching him, an easy smile on his face. Keith’s bangs are so far over his eyes that Lance can’t get a read on him at all.

A new song kicks on and Lance takes his chance.

I think I see confetti from this potion

Pillow fights and feathers, overdosin'

He is a good dancer and enjoys it, even despite the fact that he is a bit tall with long legs that seem to get in the way sometimes. He lets himself feel the rhythm, shimmying about before grabbing onto a pole. He always had the core strength to do this even where the other omegas failed.

'Cause we got them candles hanging

Hanging from the ceiling low

We use our bodies to make our own videos

Put on our music that makes us go fuckin' crazy, go

He dances around it, using it to steady his body though he is giddy with excitement at being able to dance. He elegantly wraps his body around the pole as the song reaches the climax. He knows is being watched by many, but he keeps his eyes on Shiro when possible. This is for his alpha, not anyone else.

The song dies down and Lance looks over at Shiro to see if he should continue. Instead, he is waved over. A large man is standing beside their booth when Lance returns.   

He whistles when Lance approaches.

“Nice little piece you have here. Don’t suppose you’re into sharing.”

Shiro laughs and pulls Lance close. “Fraid not.”

“In all seriousness, Shirogane, it’s good you finally have a proper omega.” The man looks over at Keith disapprovingly.

“And you know there are options…” he continues, head tilted toward a furious Keith.

“I will keep them in mind, Sendak,” Shiro says, ending the conversation.


They leave soon after, piling into the backseat of the car with the nice headband wearing driver taking them home. Shiro immediately pulls Lance into his lap and kisses him as soon as the car starts moving. Lance lets it happen, kissing back, lost in the happiness of having an alpha desire him again. He barely even registers that Keith is there, arms crossed over his chest, anger and distress clouding his scent like a poison.

Shiro pulls back momentarily and reaches into his pocket. Then, he puts something in his mouth. He sticks out his tongue and shows off a small blue pill. Lance watches, confused, and then is pulled into a kiss again. He feels Shiro tongue the pill into his mouth. In the haze of the moment, Lance swallows it, unthinking, uncaring what it might be.  

He’s with his alpha, his master, and trusts him entirely, after all.

Chapter Text

Lance has a secret that would surprise most anyone, especially if they know his general history.

Lance has never spent a heat with an alpha.

He is not a virgin. He has had two owners already. But, the timing never worked out for him to share a heat with an alpha. His first alpha had many omegas and never got around to Lance. The second one died before Lance went into heat.

Omegas in general typically don’t experience full blown heats until triggered by certain circumstances, including spending time with an alpha and feeling safe with them. Lance had never been triggered to have a full heat before so he had only read about heats, studied them in school, and experienced some lesser heats along the way.

He studied them so intensely that he thought it would be no big deal when he did fully experience one. He is studious and well-prepared from one of the best omega priming schools in the world, after all.

Lance learns quickly, however, that studying something is very different from experiencing something.

Especially experiencing something triggered unnaturally, by drugs, not natural affection and safety.

Omegas will experience intense heat once developing a relationship with an alpha, with possible passing cramps in the abdominal area. The symptoms may also mimic those of a fever. Increased arousal and heightened emotions might also occur.

These words from the omega biology book do nothing to prepare Lance for the searing, painful heat that rips through his body by the time they reach the house.  

He feels like someone set him on fire from the inside out and, by the time the car arrives at the home, he is a babbling mess, unable to walk himself to the front door. Time fades in and out and soon, he finds himself on his back in his master’s bed.

“Alpha,” he whines. “Alpha alpha alpha,” he cries, like a chant, a prayer for relief.

He arches his back and tries to look pretty, alluring, perfect for his alpha who smells so good and is stripping him of his clothes. He bares his neck and whines and pumps out pheromones that make even him dizzy.  

“Calm down,” Shiro orders, somewhat to himself, looking just a little nervous.  

Lance feels tears stream down his face as he tries to be pretty, tries to be calm and good.

It is hard when he is burning from the inside out though.

He pants wildly as the smell of his alpha washes over him as Shiro rips his own clothes off. Another time, another place and Lance would have enjoyed this in a different way. He would worship Shiro’s body and take it slowly and sweetly.

But, there is only urgency and overwhelming sensations now. He claws at Shiro, desperate to get him inside his body.

Then, he is being penetrated, somehow way too fast and also not fast enough. It hurts, a burst of pain, but it doesn’t last for long before it gives way to pleasure and relief.

He babbles into his alpha’s ears, incoherent, sobbing, clawing at his back for more and more.

“Good boy, that’s it, you’re fine,” Shiro pants in his ear as he sets a brutal pace, also not worried about being slow and sweet.

Everything is painful and too much, Lance’s world a pastiche of bright colors and sounds and feelings and the cock inside him that satisfies, but doesn’t quite hit the spot like he needs.

He knows exactly what he needs. That which only his alpha can provide him. He pushes his hips up against Shiro’s, desperately trying to make Shiro feel good enough to save Lance, to claim him for real.  

He can feel the knot when it starts to form and feels a flicker of hope.

“Alpha, yes, please, sir, please, make me yours,” he tilts his head to the side, exposing his scent gland, spreading his legs wider in eager acceptance of this alpha, this muscled, beautiful man who gave him a room and already wants to spend a heat with him, the most intimate of experiences an omega and alpha can share.  

When his alpha can no longer pull out, Lance feels teeth digging into his shoulder.


Lance isn’t sure how long he is unconscious. He just knows he wakes up at some point, confused, groggy, and the horrifying heat in his body is starting to gain intensity again.

He also knows he is alone.

His alpha is gone. Gone in the middle of a heat. After his alpha’s knot went down, he had called someone and left without even saying goodbye. Then Lance fell asleep and, from how groggy he feels right now, he must have been out for a while.  

Lance whimpers and desperately tries to remain calm. The biology books had all told him that a heat without an alpha was unpleasant, but this goes beyond unpleasant.

He whines once or twice, trying to feel out if Shiro is there, needing his alpha to comfort him and take care of him.

He already feels sick again, the knot of pain and nausea spreading across his abdomen. He thrashes, attempting to gain relief in any way possible. When he lays still and tries to ignore it, the pain becomes unbearable.

So he tries masturbating, but it’s never enough, never can quite get him where he needs to be to find relief. He can’t reach deeply enough. He doesn’t even have lube and he feels raw and needy and desperately alone, like he is the only person in the world and he would never feel another person’s warmth ever again.

He isn’t sure how long he spends, rolling around in the bed, desperate for any type of relief, sobbing for his alpha, loud cries and whines more pitiful by the minute even as he suspects no one is coming to help him.

Then, the door slams open. Lance jerks up, eyes wide and hope flooding his body.

“I’m trying to watch this documentary can you fucking…”

Lance launches himself at the first sight of possible human contact. Everything is melting away except his most primal self and, in this case, his most primal self is the second omega and his prime omega should take care of him. Needs to take care of him.  

“Mistress….please, please!”

“I told you I would fucking kill you if you ever called me something like tha…”

Lance wails, clutching at Keith’s chest.

“Sir? Prime omega, my better, your excellency, please, please, please,” he begs.  

Keith steps backward, a panicked look on his face. “Why don’t you do what you always do?”

Lance just cries in response, pain and fear taking over his body. He thinks he might die. He really does. His muscles cramp and he wishes he could just lose consciousness. He wishes his alpha was here. He wishes for a lot of things.  

“Fuck,” Keith says as he sits back on the bed. Lance hears him rustle around in the night stand before turning toward him, strong hands pushing him onto his back.  

Lance instinctively curls up, in too much pain to remain flat, and is swiftly pushed back down by Keith.

“Lay still if you want me to help you,” he growls.  

Lance does his best, unable to stop the trembling, but he tries, balling his fists as his prime omega manhandles him into position, spreading his legs and exposing him. For a minute, he thinks Keith might try to fuck him, which is remarkably taboo, so much so that Lance almost rises from his stupor to stop it. However, a moment later he feels fingers instead enter him.

Lance sobs because he knows fingers won’t help him. Then, more fingers are added, dipping as deep as they can reach. Lance whimpers, feeling just a bit of relief.  

Then, Keith keeps going, and Lance feels the ridge of a knuckle and the size of something broader than any set of fingers working its way into his body. Lance clicks his tongue, trying to relax and let Keith help him.  

Keith gently works his fist inside Lance, bit by bit. It’s not as hard as it should be, with Lance in heat and freshly fucked by an alpha.  

Lance calms down a little bit, sighing at the feeling of being full again.

Then, Keith’s other hand starts pressing on his abdomen, focusing on his lower stomach. Lance whines on confusion.

“Just…hold on…it’s hard to do it to someone else.”

There is another minute or two of tentative pushes before he hits something inside Lance that makes him scream. Pleasure, a welcome relief from pain, floods his body.

Keith grimaces, but doubles down with a nod, pressing even harder on that spot and rotating his fist even deeper inside Lance’s body.

Lance wails, relief and pleasure striking his body in a white hot pulse of warmth and wetness. He collapses, panting, exhausted, grateful. Keith delicately extracts his hand and then immediately heads to the bathroom sink while Lance catches his breath.

Lance feels gratitude and wonder that Keith even knew how to do that. A question for another time though because, even though the fire is gone for the moment, something worse is left behind.   

Heats are very vulnerable, tender times and Lance has never felt the desire to nest so strongly. It isn’t just a desire or a comfort. He feels like he needs it like oxygen. He needs to feel safe, protected, warm, and loved. He needs to be in a pile of soft stuff that smells like family and home.   

But, he can’t nest. Not here.

He has nothing that is his own. He has nothing that brings him comfort. There are no articles of clothing he wants to cuddle with right now, no hoodie he always imagined having when he was younger or sets of pillows, no homey items to make him feel safe.

He doesn’t feel safe, or loved, or desired.

His neck is unmarked.

His alpha refused to bite him, even in the middle of a heat, a heat that he induced, even while knotting him.

It is a clear sign of rejection.  

Lance feels devasted, a lonely emptiness spreading across him.

He cries openly as Keith reenters the room.  “Isn’t this what you wanted? An alpha to fuck and use you as he pleases?”

Lance cries harder. “I just want somewhere…a home…somewhere to live and belong…I’m trying so hard.”

Keith’s eyes widen in surprise.

Lance shoves his head into the pillow, barely noticing that Keith stands in the room for a moment or two, shifting his weight, before leaving and closing the door behind him.