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A Little Life in Denial

FwuffyMouse

The sun filtered through the curtains, doing little to warm Lefty's skin but merrily blinding them until they conceded defeat and rolled out of the way of the attacking beams. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes, wiping the salty crust off on their legs as they sat up on their kitchen floor. The tile was cold, biting into their skin as they tried to find an excuse to stay down. The air still smelled sweet, but the intensity from the prior night had dulled to a fraction of what it was. 'I'm still here' thought lefty, shifting their weight towards a cabinet and pulling open the door. They used it to push to a stand and laid their face in their hands as they tried to remember how to breathe and walk. One of Lefty's hands found its way to their nape, feeling around under the leather strap there and brushing over some sticky bumps on their skin. Scabs, jagged and ugly ones by the texture, and sensitive as all hell as Lefty discovered. Simply touching that spot sent a flutter through them from neck to tail, and they snapped their hand back to their side as they shook themself off.

Their kitchen was more or less immaculate, if one excused the open drawers and upended spice bottles on the counter. Lefty moved slowly, every inch had to be deliberate and careful as they still couldn't feel their own feet. They took a dirty cup from the sink and flicked the remnants of cola out of the bottom before filling it with some cold water, then took a sip and set it down on the edge of the sink. When they turned to keep going through the mess, they hooked their wrist on the edge of the glass and sent it toppling to the floor. Water splashed their legs and Lefty whipped their hands to their ears as the cup bounced and clattered across the ground. 'Loud! Cold! Why does it hurt so bad?' thought lefty, hunching over and whimpering into the silence. Vanilla wafted up around them in response to their stress, and they decided then and there that the kitchen can wait. Something would need to be done about their scent, immediately.

The first step towards their bathroom went perfectly fine, the second and third went far worse as Lefty's top half outran their bottom half and they stumbled towards the corner of the dividing wall. They barely managed to throw their hand up in time to shield their face, yelping pathetically at the feeling of drywall digging into their palm. Rather than risk walking the rest of the way, Lefty conceded defeat and slid down the wall, crawling around it on all fours and wincing with every movement they forced upon their burning calves. They knelt beside the bathtub and pulled the lever all the way up, then slapped the diverter down so that they could fill the tub faster. Getting the drain closed was another matter, as they had to lean awkwardly over the porcelain barrier and fumble to turn it without unscrewing the knob by accident. They'd had hangovers before, even some as bad as this, but that didn't make it any simpler to actually throw themselves over the side of the tub and into the steaming water.

It was only barely hot enough, and the air around them was too cool to make it enjoyable as they fidgeted about in the shallow pool. They drummed their fingers on the edge of the bathtub and read the back of their shampoo bottles to take their mind off of… pretty much everything. Everything in their immediate vicinity was unscented but every bottle also held bright red disclaimers stating that they weren't neutralizing products. Lefty knew from experience that those were often expensive and kept behind locked glass cases, and many an embarrassed omega had come wandering to the electronics area to ask if they happened to have keys to the cases in the pharmacy department. Lefty had always lied back then, as the keys were universal but they didn't feel any need to stop their work for someone they implicitly despised.

Lefty cursed themself under their breath and scooped some water over themselves to fight the coolness lapping at their back. They cursed again when they realized they'd accidentally soaked their collar and hastily removed it, opening one of their wounds in the process and suppressing a frustrated cry as they flung the strap across the bathroom. It hurt to see it go, and they made very careful note of where the accessory landed before turning their attention back to their soaps. They dumped about half a cup of the stuff onto a loofah and worked it in, then set to work sanding off any remnants of their own scent they could find. It got to a point where they'd rubbed their skin raw and still had the barest hints of vanilla tickling their nostrils, and they gave up before resorting to actually peeling themself apart. 'It doesn't go away!? How do I make it stop!?' They thought, drying their hands and fumbling with their phone as they pulled up their favorite search engine.

“Hfw to hidr my scvnrnomega"

'Goddamn wet fingers!'

They pressed their thumb against the first link that popped up, scrolling through the comments and growing increasingly frustrated with the suggestions. Short of expensive sprays there weren't any options that didn't involve covering their own scent with something stronger. Some folks suggested complimentary notes, which seemed to make more sense until the replies pointed out that turning oneself into a bakery might incite even more hunger. 'What does that even mean?' wondered Lefty, setting their phone on the floor and throwing more water over themself to stay warm. The only thing in their studio that didn't smell like them was their fridge and their collar. Food smells had been giving them migraines lately, so Lefty's gaze fell back on their collar once more. They let out a long, frustrated sigh and pulled the tub's plug up, then struggled to their feet and wrapped themself up in a towel before they could freeze to death. It had landed behind the toilet, making an already difficult maneuver just that much more unpleasant and resulting in them smacking their head on the underside of the bowl.

Putting the collar back on relieved some stress. It caused a lot more; Lefty fell into a brief trance as they recalled the moment they felt the weight of Gil's hand on their throat for the first time. They managed to drag themself back into the living room, then fall into the couch still dripping wet. If it was only sub drop that was bothering them, they'd be more or less capable of handling that on their own. They looked down at their phone and frowned at their reflection, looking more like an aggrieved puppy than the frustrated human they'd have preferred to see. They whimpered, then cursed. Part of Lefty felt like they deserved this. It was the same part that had lived in their head since-

Lefty let out a guttural yell and thumped their chest, violently shaking their head. They wouldn't allow THAT memory to return. They would spend a thousand hours listening to Liam ramble about huffing his alpha's farts. Wait, Liam? Lefty hadn't thought of that guy for years. The last thing they said to Liam was that they hoped he'd be happy crapping out kids for the rest of his life. 'God I'm such a cunt' thought Lefty, scrolling through their contacts and finding their friend's old number. It probably wouldn't work. Ten years had passed since their less than graceful breakup, but Lefty had to try anyway. They hovered over the 'new message' button before flicking their thumb over to the call button instead. It rang a few times before a familiar, if older, sounding voice came down the line.

“Hello?" asked Liam. There were chaotic noises in the background, children playing and television showing some cartoon, and some oddly avian sounding squawks and chirps as well.

“Hey- first off, I'm a jackass," stammered Lefty. They released ten syllables more of word vomit before going quiet.

Liam was laughing.

“Dude, you're on speaker, my nine year old heard that," said Liam, shushing somebody before continuing. “Where the heck have you been? I tried calling you a few times but your number changed."

“I moved about seven or eight years ago and cut ties with pretty much everyone," said Lefty, laying back against the sofa and tightening their towel around their body.

Liam stayed quiet for a bit, shuffling a few things around and quietly shooing one of his kids to 'go feed the squirrels' before returning to the call. “Say no more. If it helps, I can tell you those folks aren't hurting anyone anymore."

“It…" Lefty sat frozen for a moment as a lump in their gut uncoiled. They hadn't realized it was there. “…helps a lot. Thanks. I think I need more help though," they said.

Liam picked up his phone and switched off the speaker, killing the background noise as Lefty heard him moving somewhere quieter. “What's going on?"

“You won't believe me," muttered Lefty, tugging at some fluff on their towel.

“I have ten kids and six of them are ordinary squirrels. Try me," quipped Liam. Lefty really hoped he was joking.

“I'm an omega," they said, having to force the words past their teeth. If felt exactly like the day Lefty came out to their parents, and was just as difficult.

Liam's silence didn't make it any less painful, either. “Shit," he said. He repeated himself and dragged the word out for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. “I'm sorry."

Lefty pulled the phone away from their ear and stared at it as if the little glass rectangle could explain Liam's reaction. Sorry? Why would he be sorry for me!?

“Yeah, it's been a rough weekend. I think I've had symptoms for a while," they said, losing the end of their thought to the void.

“Presenting, is what it's called. Usually alphas or omegas present during puberty, but it happens late every so often," said Liam. Lefty could hear him settling against something, and felt themself deflating as the conversation progressed.

“Well, it started a few days ago. I wanted to- I pretended it was nothing. My house smelled weird, and some folks started looking more closely at me," said Lefty, leaning forwards and letting their towel fall. They'd dried off by now.

“You must have been putting off scent before you could sense it. If it was enough to stand out over other betas, it was probably a lot," said Liam.

“Never one to sugar coat things, were you?"

“Trust me, I wish I could. Have you been to a clinic?" asked Liam. The sound of crumpling plastic and paper followed his voice but no further questions came.

“No, I haven't. I've barely been able to walk all day," admitted Lefty. They also hadn't even considered getting medical help, but they weren't going to say as much. “Nearly domed myself on a wall when I tried to shower."

Liam laughed. It was a quiet, worried sort of laugh like a parent might offer a child that hurt itself doing something silly.

“You'll probably need a day or two to get sorted. I wouldn't go back to work if I were you, not without a heat kit and some meds," said Liam.

“A what kit? That's a real thing!?"

“Dude, do you not read those stupid ow-mah notices they post everywhere? My mate's always bringing flyers home from his office," said Liam, sounding annoyed.

Lefty had seen plenty of AOMA literature at their workplace, but ignored most of it beyond the stuff specifically laid out in the sensitivity training they had to sit through every quarter.

“I probably should have, but in fairness most of those don't say much about betas," said Lefty.

Liam sighed, pausing to rub his temples, presumably, before continuing. “A heat kit's your lifeline if you're caught out when nature calls. Suppressants, Stabilizers, scent-killing wipes and stuff to keep you from slicking all your favorite pants," explained Liam.

Lefty gasped, choking on their own drool and coughing for nearly a minute before managing a pained “…what!?"

“You'll also need regular meds too. Don't do generics without checking with a doctor first. AOMA clinics are free and safer than most regular hospitals," said Liam, pushing past their friend's shock in order to help them.

“I'll make an appointment right away, I guess," wheezed Lefty, wiping their face.

“Good- ah Jesus," hissed Liam over the sound of a crash. He shouted something out into his house before coming back onto the line “I should probably make sure Danny just didn't eat one of his siblings. Stay in touch though, okay?" he said, hanging up before lefty could respond.

Lefty stared down at their phone for a moment before opening up its built-in web browser. The AOMA website, sterile and empty, was easy enough to find and navigate. They didn't even need much personal information to schedule an appointment, though lefty wouldn't be able to see anyone for at least a week.

A week.

Seven days.They couldn't go without working for that long, their company's attendance policy was downright draconian for anyone without pre-existing papers. Lefty stood up and hobbled to their closet, retrieving their bag and a set of clean clothes and easing their way into them. They promptly tore themselves free of that outfit and fished around for a set of soft, loose pajamas. The normal clothing had felt like wearing a cactus inside out. 'Mental note, buy softer clothes' thought Lefty. They sincerely hoped that their self-care routine wasn't about to get as complicated as it felt it would. In an act of incredible foresight, Lefty also pulled a scarf down from the top shelf and tossed it around their neck.

Lefty stepped outside and doused their arms in some of the perfume from their bag, gagging into their scarf and capping the bottle before ducking around someone in the hall. 'There was someone there,' they reminded themself, rounding the corner and tromping down the stairwell. 'I barely noticed them, but there was someone in the hall,' they mused, chuckling nervously into their scarf. The overhead lights buzzed and ticked, the halls creaked and the entire building smelled like dust, rotting wood and crumbling clay. The person they nearly bowled over smelled like nothing. Nearly everyone they passed on the street was the same way, only the most heavily scented folks even registered and that just made them easier to avoid. By the time Lefty reached the entrance to the corner pharmacy they'd realized how stupid it was to be upset when his coworker Jay ignored them. They looked around, seeing people passing but struggling to commit faces or outfits to memory even when actively trying to do so.

'I can do better,' they assured themself, leaning against the door and letting themself fall over the threshold. They followed their nose down an aisle exploding with pastels on one side and drowning in black and red on the other. An odd, invisible vortex drew Lefty towards the brighter side of the aisle, and they figured out why as their fingers brushed over one of the boxes there. They'd all been coated in some form of floral scent and gave off an almost sterile 'positive' vibe that immediately flagged as manufactured. 'That's a dirty trick, using pheromones for marketing,' they thought, picking up a box of pads and sniffing it. It served as a safe enough test of their new senses, and Lefty was alarmed to learn they could pick out most of the individual notes in the bouquet. Rose petals, ginger ale, and a minuscule hint of some generic musky chemical. The next box was almost entirely different save for the musk underlying it all. It made perfect sense to Lefty, as despite absolutely despising pastels they did enjoy a little bit of sweat every now and then.

They shook themself off and started actually reading the boxes, comparing a pair of different generic suppressant brands side by side and finding that both had exactly the same active ingredients. Whether the gel capsules or the suppositories were any better was beyond Lefty's limited understanding of such things and they opted to look for options that didn't involve dropping their pants to use. By the time they reached the end of the aisle and started picking through various bags of sweets they'd amassed a small collection of anything that looked remotely useful. They'd entirely skipped the over expensive 'relievers'; those were all uncomfortably phallic while still screaming 'not FDA approved' on the front of the package. They had toys at home, and those didn't smell like a stranger's taint… only their own. With the self checkout register closed, Lefty's only remaining option was to endure a fellow human at the front counter.

“Little of everything, huh?" they said, shaking a box of neutralizing wipes that were just cheap enough not to be locked up.

Lefty pulled their scarf away from their mouth, sneaking in a sharp breath to try and catch the cashier's scent. All they got was a lungful of the marketing pheromones and had to clear their throat before they could answer. They coughed several times and needed to rub their eyes dry when they finally stopped.

“Sheesh, don't start crying on me, I just started," muttered the cashier, scanning the wipes and reaching around Lefty's pads to scan their chosen suppressant.

“Oh no I'm fine," Lefty said brightly. Too brightly. It felt and sounded fake as they tracked the cashier's hands with their gaze. “But yeah, I just moved and lost a lot of stuff," they lied.

“Sure you did. Totally not running from your owner, right?" pressed the cashier, nudging the pads with a pen and scanning a bag of lavender chips that they had been sitting on.

Lefty wasn't naïve, in fact they'd behaved similarly towards omegas in the past. They assured themself it was only on their bad days but couldn't say the same for the 20-something beta checking them out. The cashier dropped the fragile snacks on the floor before giving Lefty a pointed look and maintaining eye contact as they picked them back up.

“Can't let you think I'm offering," he said, tossing the chips into a bag and picking up a pack of gum from one of the displays nearby.

“That's not mine," Lefty said softly. They'd intended to say it louder but struggled for reasons they wouldn't admit. They were hurting.

The cashier scanned the gum and threw it into the bag, breaking more of Lefty's chips and unrolling an unnecessary amount of paper towels around their dominant hand, then gingerly attempting to scan the box of pads without letting his skin touch it.

Lefty snatched the gum out of the bag, placed it on the counter and repeated themself, more loudly. “These weren't mine. Take them off," they said.

The cashier furrowed his brow and keyed in a button combination on his register, 'accidentally' placing a call to his supervisor and tapping more buttons in feigned ignorance. “Oh, my bad, I've gotta get someone here to void this. Might be a while, my boss is out back rutting a ten year old-“

“THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" squeaked Lefty, and their hands snapped up to press their scarf to their mouth.

The cashier smirked, stepping back and putting his own hands up in mock surrender. Other people were looking now. perhaps they already had been. He had his laugh and cleared the fake alert from his register, before running the oh-so-offensive pads through and totaling it all out.

“Geez. Talk about sensitive. Frickin tailraisers can't take a joke, right?" he said, speaking past Lefty and at someone behind them.

“Just get him out, man, we're all waiting," snapped the stranger. The cashier rolled their eyes and tapped a key, finally allowing Lefty to actually pay for their things.

They counted their steps as they scurried away from the shop, calling it a small win that they'd made it about a dozen before breaking down. Weaving and bumping their way through the crowd of human-shaped scent voids, Lefty knew full well how they looked. They didn't care. They didn't have the time to care. All they wanted to do was get home and swallow their pride with a gel cap and some sugary soda. As they replaced the lid on their suppressants and rubbed their temples, Lefty couldn't help but feel like they deserved that somehow. Not for being an omega, though. It was that they'd spent decades telling themself that they'd 'never be like an omega' and maintaining an unhealthy pride in the fact that their problems weren't the same. They felt they deserved it for being jealous of what alphas and omegas had, for wanting things both ways without the responsibility or sacrifice that came with that. Even the headache and gross sinking sensation that followed taking the pride-forsaken pill felt deserved. Lefty could only hope that it would be enough to get them through work the next day.

They arrived at the Harperville Sparkster's early, cloaked in loose, comfortable pajamas that they intended to swap out for whatever garments they found that their skin could tolerate. The section labeled specifically for omegas was rather sexless in its sexism; every garment was some form of baby blue, pink or floral pastel and either too loose or too form fitting to fit Lefty's sensibilities. They were all marked with commercial pheromones to an even more absurd degree than the items at the drugstore. Even the items specifically labeled as unscented had the same acrid stink of a freshly opened neutralizer wipe, but that still might provide the benefit of stamping out Lefty's own vanilla-cream profile. Lefty pinched the garments as they went and selected a brand that made their teeth itch the least. They even found something in a shade of green they almost tolerated. While not something they'd normally condone, they really didn't want to ask a coworker for an open fitting room and took their haul into the store's nursing room to change, as it had a full body mirror they could use to assess the fit.

The shirt was just loose enough, made of a soft natural material and slid over Lefty's sensitive hide without pulling or scratching. The jeans were regular denim but so loose it was hard to tell the omega's thighs from their calves. Sadly, the pockets were fake, as anyone wearing the garment would be expected to carry very little of their own. They took a few tentative hops to ensure their phone wouldn't fly free of the useless vessels. Satisfied, they donned their scarf and bundled their pajamas into a bag, taking the tags from their clothing with them to the electronics counter to pay. One of their coworkers spotted them from behind a shelf and made their way over, initially looking at Lefty as if he were trying to remember their name before his eyes went wide.

“Oh geez, that's- that's one heck of an outfit Lefty!" said Alex, failing to hide his amusement as he keyed into the register.

“Yeah, trying something new," replied Lefty, holding out the barcodes he needed and counting the hairs on their coworker's chin in an effort to fake attentiveness.

“You taking fashion advice from Jay? I swear that guy must be blind with how he dresses," quipped Alex, printing Lefty a receipt and leaning on the counter.

“Oh please, I can make my own bad decisions. I gotta grab keys, I'll be back in a minute," said Lefty, taking the slip off the printer and stuffing it into their bag, then taking their leave.

They nearly walked into their other coworker Tracy, apologizing and twirling around them like a flamboyant beyblade as they ducked into the back room. First stop, their locker. They tossed their bags into it and donned their work vest and regretted it rather quickly. Oh well, they'd intended to get some paperwork from the personnel office, so a less stinky vest wouldn't be a tall ask either. The door was open, so they stepped inside and waited patiently behind another associate while she and the personnel lead spoke. Adrian was shockingly noticeable, compared to the associate at his desk. Even with his scent tamped down by suppressants and covered by a nearby neutralizing diffuser, his identity was immediately apparent to Lefty. They could tell it took a lot of effort to focus on the person who'd gotten there first so Lefty stepped back further and made themself as small as possible. A minute later, it was their turn and the first words out of Adrian's mouth were a hearty

“Gods help you, Maven. You're flagging hard."

“I'm trying not to," they said, holding their wrist over Adrian's diffuser and collecting some of the mist, then rubbing it against its sibling.

“Have a seat, we gotta talk," said Adrian, thumbing through some documents in one of their sorting trays. “Please tell me you're on any sort of meds."

Lefty sat and pulled their scarf down to speak. “I'm on generics. Tried some wipes but those don't seem to last," they said, glancing down at the watermarked papers being laid before them. “Oh hey, this is actually something I planned to ask for, how'd you know?"

They held up the sheet and gestured with it, pointing out the bright red AOMA letterhead at the top. It was a voluntary disclosure document for A or O-types to list out any accommodation needs they'd have in the workplace.

“Like I said, you're flagging. If you weren't here for paperwork I'd still have made you do it," said Adrian, passing them a pen and gesturing towards lefty's neck. “Make sure you list your scarf as a grounding item and not just a comfort tool."

Lefty did as they were told, trusting Adrian implicitly for no other reason than their shared status. “I had no idea, by the way," Lefty said softly, looking up from their work to check that nobody was around to hear them.

Adrian smiled and waved off their concerns. “It's okay, you're not the first. Lord knows you won't be the last either, but I'm proud of what I've managed to do, even if it isn't much."

Lefty had felt that the only places available for omegas to work were base level jobs like their own. They even had experience to tell them it was true. Adrian was utterly invisible before, interacting with and managing a number of both alphas and betas in addition to the omegas on the sales floor. Save the store manager, he had the most power of anyone.

“You can do even more, you know?" he said, and Lefty set down their pen to listen. “Seriously, Sparkster's is no place for anyone to make a career. None of these retail chains are. My sister works at Volk and Dire as an adjuster, right alongside a bunch of alphas," he added.

Lefty laid the sheets and pen on the table and shrank in their seat, playing with the fringes on their scarf. “I flunked out of college, even if I could hide I doubt I'd make it far," they said.

“Don't hide. Fight," said Adrian, taking the documents and tapping his finger on the table. “Fight yourself, fight others, and fight the system."

“I'm not much of a fighter," Lefty said sheepishly.

“Me neither. None of us are. Doesn't mean we can't," he said, turning to file Lefty's disclosures away and pulling a small bag out of the same drawer.

He offered it to Lefty and watched carefully as they opened it. They found a small silver pin with a familiar greek letter cut into the front, and looked to Adrian with an eyebrow raised.

“Voluntary disclosures are one weapon. Pride is another. We have parades for a reason," said Adrian, smiling warmly.

Lefty pocketed the pin and shook their head. “I've gotten enough out of my pride already. Haven't got the heart to open myself up like that again," they said.

“That's entirely fair, but I wanted you to have the option. Now I'm not allowed to ask for details, but I highly recommend you find time to go get some bloodwork done. Genetically matched suppressants are also a weapon," said Adrian.

“I have a visit planned at one of the AOMA places," said Lefty, answering the unasked question.

“Good, don't miss it. Things might be fine now but whenever your heat comes you'll want the best meds you can get," said Adrian, slipping a brochure out of a drawer and offering it up as well.

Lefty declined it and gestured towards their back pocket. “I've been doing research online. What I really need is a new vest. My old one reminds me of a class trip to the Harperville Dairy Farm," they said, furrowing their brow and shaking off the oddly specific memory.

“Yeah scents will do that. Best start keeping a spreadsheet now, and find the ones that give you happy thoughts instead," said Adrian, sighing. “I can't imagine what it's been like for you."

“If it's all the same, I don't want to talk about that. I feel weird enough that you clocked me on it so fast," said Lefty.

“Well, it's not often that someone you know walks in and starts blaring their entire emotional spectrum when all you've seen is the base model," said Adrian, shrugging and pulling a clean vest out of a box beneath his desk.

“It's that obvious huh? I should have guessed," said Lefty, taking the vest and swapping it with their old one, then fixing their scarf. “You're pretty good about seeing everyone though. How do you do it?"

“Years of effort, sadly. Just keep trying. Our senses are keyed to finding mates, detecting threats and protecting our young, almost to a fault," explained Adrian.

“Makes us sound like animals."

“We're as animal as anyone else, but that doesn't make us weak or stupid," sighed Adrian. He looked Lefty up and down, then smiled. “Take some extra wipes, use them any time you smell yourself." he said, pushing a bowl of the bitter things towards Lefty.

Lefty took a handful and stuffed them into their pocket. They'd gone over their entire body with what they'd bought, using nearly all of them before they were certain it had worked.

“So, anything else I need to worry about 'flagging'?" asked Lefty, frowning when Adrian shook his head.

“Scent is nine tenths of it, the rest is in how you look and sound," he said.

Lefty made a show of dramatically flopping forwards like a deactivated robot before straightening back up and laughing to themself. “Okay, I get it. I guess I've got the look nailed then," they said, rubbing the back of their neck.

They winced as they pushed their scarf against the mass of scabs there, tugging it and freeing any stray yarn fibers that were stuck.

“If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, alright?" said Adrian.

Lefty nodded and stepped out, emerging onto the sales floor with all the confidence of an unfluffed teddy bear. 'Fake it til you make it!' they thought, ducking behind the electronics counter and looking down the department checklist. The morning crew had finished their work for once, so all Lefty needed to do was sweep the department and face shelves until new stock arrived to go out. It was the same dull, repetitive nonsense as always and there was a comfort in it that might have lulled Lefty into complacency if not for the fact that every single item in their department stank. They kept adjusting their scarf as they went, gasping for the relatively pleasant musty scent over the ink, plastic and paper mill funk on every product. 'I'd take the luring pheromones over this crap,' thought Lefty, laughing to themself at the absurdity. Even ordinary things screamed at their body to pay attention! At least none of the products were specifically targeted to alphas, though Lefty found themself hesitant to approach the pet department just in case some cheeky marketing executive thought themself a comedian.

While they were fussing with a particularly stubborn peg hook, a thick roiling morass of “danger" coalesced around them. Lefty's heart jumped into their chest and they instinctively turned on their toes and snapped to attention, looking up into the face of a chubby middle aged man with a wide smile. He looked like he was just somebody's dad. He smelled like he could fold Lefty in half and get them to thank him for it. The stranger held up the box for a pair of headphones and flipped it around.

“Will this work with an Xbox?"

That made Lefty feel pretty stupid. They tried to relax and laugh it off but it felt like their blood was trying break the land speed record. “Yeah, but I'd recommend the ones from over near the consoles," they said, starting to move that way and going completely rigid.

They couldn't move. The moment Lefty turned their back both of their legs locked up and their throat tightened. The stranger's shadow was all-consuming, stranding the omega in a well of scents and darkness. Everything spun around them and it felt as if the entire world was growing.

“Oh, my bad, sorry for looming," said the stranger, stepping around Lefty and freeing them from his oppressive presence. It had only been a few seconds.

“Oh no, that's fine! Uh- one aisle up, then a left," squeaked Lefty. They chose to follow behind the unknown alpha from then on, but found themself keeping their stance lower than normal.

The large, jolly fellow passed Lefty the box he'd initially picked out and gestured towards a shelf plastered with green and white products. “Which ones would you recommend?"

Lefty's eye twitched, and they bit into their scarf as they screamed internally. 'Is this guy clueless? Am I the one fucking this up? Why is he asking ME for anything!?'

“Whichever one you want- I mean, it depends on your budget. The best brand are these here," they squeaked, gesturing towards a mid-range over the ear headset and shuffling a half-step back.

Lefty's mind went places they really didn't like it going, as they envisioned themself being thrown against the floor of this stranger's car and claimed. They saw even more embarrassing things besides; the most sickening of their involuntary visions was of themself cleaning this man's body with their own clothing while wearing it.

“Oh I've heard of them," said the alpha, picking one box up and reading it for a moment before tucking it under his arm. “Thanks for the help! My kid would have eaten another controller if I got the wrong ones," he said with a dry chuckle that snapped Lefty back to the present.

“Well, I'm happy-" Lefty paused to cough a few times, holding their scarf to their nose to keep themself from drifting off again. “Excuse me. I was happy to help."

The alpha looked down at them directly, causing them to flinch and shrink slightly. “You remind me of him, toughing it out while still showing off who he is. It's cute. You'll make your own alpha proud one day," he said.

As he disappeared around the shelves the Alpha's presence gradually lifted away from Lefty's back and they regained the ability to breathe properly. Their nostrils flared and their blood chilled at the scent of vanilla cream, and they checked their wrists to confirm it was their own. Cursing, Lefty yanked a neutralizer wipe from their vest pocket and started rubbing down their arms with it as they walked back to the restrooms. They didn't step inside any of them, merely needing the slightly greater privacy the alcove provided so they could lift their shirt and run the cloth over their chest. As they cursed again and threw the spent wipe into the trash, they checked their scent and detected raspberry on the air as well. Odd, as it was very much a foreign note, but the familiar giggling of his least favorite coworker followed behind the fruity wisps.

“Dude, you're using that wrong," said Jason, planting a hand on his hip and cocking it out to the side like he was showing off his belt.

“Cut me a break, Jay," said Lefty, tossing an unopened wipe at his face. It bounced off and hit the floor with an unsatisfying plop.

“Ow, meanie! And here I was offering to help," said Jason, bending to pick the thing up and peeling it open. “Lemme show you something."

He did an odd flourish, pulling back his sleeves and swabbing the acrid little cloth over each wrist. He followed that with a single swipe around the front of his neck, then dabbed his nape before twisting his head around like a meerkat. Putting a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, he suddenly rammed his hand down the back of his pants and swiped upwards, then tossed the thoroughly degraded wet wipe into the bin.

“Wrists, neck, back, and crack," chirped Jason, chanting the words like one of those silly mantras schools use to get kids to quiet down.

Lefty opened up a fresh wipe and pressed their back to the wall, awkwardly mirroring the motions and wincing as the neutralizing chemicals crossed their arse. They tossed the thing and squirmed, rubbing themself through the seat of their pants until it stopped burning.

“You get used to it," said Jason, once again searching the area and biting his lower lip. “You should go home."

He was uncharacteristically quiet now.

“Why? I'm at four points, I can't risk leaving before lunch," rebuffed Lefty, carefully sniffing their wrist again and humming in satisfaction.

“I can't- Trust me, okay? I can't tell you why but you need to leave," insisted Jason. Lefty felt his coworker's fear and shivered, pulling their scarf up over their mouth.

“I'll be fired, I can't afford that," said Lefty, louder than intended.

Jason flinched back and sighed, combing a hand through his hair. He sighed again and shook his head. “Okay, I can't make you do anything. Just- don't blame yourself if someone else comes along that can."

He left before Lefty could ask for an explanation, and the enby wondered what someone as insufferable as Jason could be afraid of. They thought about it for a moment before deciding that the omega was still a bit too impenetrable for them. 'His MIND is impenetrable! Get your head out of the gutter, Maven!' thought lefty, scuttling back out to their department and pawing through a pile of fresh goods. They stacked a load of ink cartridges along their arm, carefully moving them to a locked cabinet and laying them out atop it. Their coworkers stood nearby, speaking in hushed voices and gesturing towards them while they worked. Lefty flashed them a grin, hated themself for it, and stocked the last of their goods before locking the cabinet back up. “Hey, is that all the freight or do we have another batch coming?"

Both the betas shook their heads, and Lefty gave them a thumbs up and carried on. They pumped their fist as they walked, congratulating themself for managing to see their coworkers and then bonking their head into the upper shelf of the stock cart. With a sad squeak, they rubbed their head and started picking out what to put up next as the intercom chimed overhead. The voice of the store's manager followed, stern yet friendly as always.

“Good afternoon associates! Maven Rask, please «come» to the admin office. That's Maven Rask, «to the admin office»"

Blood rushed away from Lefty's head as the words registered and they were temporarily blinded as if they had stood up too fast. Their body moved quickly, pulled by invisible strings in unnatural ways as they drifted towards the back rooms. Someone nearby spoke to them as they passed but it sounded like they were underwater, and even if they understood, Lefty was unable to stop and respond. They couldn't even see until they were halfway up the hall and weren't fully lucid until their hand was on the door to Patrick's office. That was when they managed to wrest back just enough control to pause, as before them laid an invisible wall of pheromones. Some terrifying aura of power, ownership and masculine energy that made the enby tear up in fear.

“Come in!" shouted their boss, still as polite as always.

Lefty hesitated again, tightening their scarf over their face and tying it behind their neck. They knew that if they complied, they could be walking into the jaws of a monster. They also knew that if they waited or fled they'd just be yanked back like a dog on a chain. Another scent coiled through the fugue, bitter, sour even. Impatience.

They grabbed the knob and turned it, struggling for friction with their palms so sweaty. “You wanted to see me, sir?" muttered Lefty, seating themself on a hard plastic stool across from Patrick's swivel chair.

The store lead turned to face Lefty and looked them over, then stared at them like a cat stalking a cockroach. He was tall, broad chested but otherwise fit and wore a crisp black button down shirt bearing both his name badge and an “A" embroidered in red thread above his breast pocket. His slacks were pressed and clean, but did little to hide the mass of malehood beneath their material. The way he spread his legs was very clearly on purpose, and he drew Lefty's eyes back to that point with subtle gestures of his hands. Of course, they'd be looking there even without the direction, but Lefty would never admit as much. When they did manage to sneak glances up at his face the only read the omega could manage was 'standard model 30-something playboy face' before instinctual submission tore their gaze away.

“I did. I could tell you're going through a difficult time and wanted to touch base," said Patrick, spreading his legs further and reclining in his chair. His scent, already eye-watering, got even more potent as he bared his crotch.

Lefty mopped some drool off their face with a subtle adjustment of their yarn 'mask' and fixed their gaze on the alpha's neck. They couldn't look higher than that; It felt as if a hand were holding their head down.

“I've been better, I'll admit," Lefty said quietly. It felt like their very voice was being swallowed by the waves of dominance crashing over them. “But I'm handling myself, thank you." they added meekly.

Patrick smirked, rolling his chair closer and reaching out to hook a finger under Lefty's chin. They naturally pulled away, which seemed to offend the alpha for a moment before he shrugged and tried again.

“«stay» still a moment," he said, this time catching the omega's jaw between his fingers and all but piercing their eyes with his gaze. Those eyes were all Lefty could focus on when their sight returned.

“Head fuzzy. What're you- hmmph!?"

Patrick had shoved his thumb past Lefty's lips, running it along their teeth and losing his smile. “You have one hell of a crossbite, you know."

'A… crossbite? He's inspecting my teeth?' thought Lefty, silently fuming and shifting their jaw in an effort to bite down on the intruding digit. It tasted foul, like dirty sweat, and Lefty loathed to think of where it had been.

Patrick withdrew his thumb and wiped it off on Lefty's scarf, then sat back. The stink of it tainted the yarn where he'd made the oh-so-deliberate contact. He was also still too close for comfort. “We have a really good dental plan, you should use it," he remarked.

Lefty's joints unlocked one by one from the bottom up, and they shoved themself back in their chair, pressed against the wall and looking anywhere but at the alpha before them.

“You just- that's not okay, Patrick! What the hell!?" they squeaked, having to force the words out through their tightening throat. “That's assa-“

“Be «quiet»!" hissed Patrick, stealing away Lefty's voice with a word. He rubbed his temples and stood up, rolling his chair away in the same motion and grabbing Lefty by the arm. “«get up, turn around»" he growled.

Lefty's vision went almost entirely black and they felt themselves floating up and spinning, but their muscles barely registered the work. Post Blackout, they found themself squashed between Patrick's chest and the wall at the back of the office. Their arm had also been pinned to their back, and the alpha's hand ran along Lefty's waistband in a slow half-circuit. A brief tug confirmed Patrick's strength, feeling as if they were fighting the weight of a car and hardly budging at all. Pitiful, animal whimpering was all Lefty could muster as their protests failed to form.

“Good boy," said Patrick, breathing the words into Lefty's ear and laughing as the omega tried to push themself away from the wall.

Patrick's hand dipped deeper into Lefty's pants, cupping their arse and squeezing it hard. Again Lefty tried to protest but only managed to gasp and beat ther fist against the wall in frustration.

“Keep trying, puppy. It's cute," huffed the alpha, sliding his hand up to the small of Lefty's back and back down their crack.

Lefty arched their back, punching the wall again and grinding their teeth as those filthy digits teased their hole. Everything about the alpha stank and what little air they could draw under his weight was tainted with motor oil and a slightly onion-tinted musk. Lefty's head swam with more emotion than complete thoughts, and what few they managed all screamed the same thing.

'This isn't happening. Not again. This isn't real!'

“You're nice and wet, Maven," said Patrick, sliding his hand upwards and pulling Lefty's arse up with it. He shoved the omega sideways as he reversed the motion, making a slow dance of coaxing their hips to sway with the movement of his fingers.

Lefty punched the wall hard enough to cut their knuckles. “Let go of me!" they choked, punching the wall again.

The alpha laughed and dug his fingers into his prey's arse, sinking them in up to the second knuckle and laying more of his weight on their back.

“No," he whispered, nipping Lefty's ear and exhaling hot, damp coffee breath onto their neck. He withdrew his invading digits a bit before pushing them back in and tightening his grip.

“You don't get to give me orders, omega. You don't have the voice for that," said Patrick.

Lefty chewed their scarf and whimpered as the alpha toyed with them, finding the strength to squirm enough to free their arm and plant it against the wall. “Let me GO!" they squawked.

“Damn it, «hold still!»" barked Patrick, planting his palm on the back of Lefty's head and slamming it forwards. They felt a crunch as their nose hit the wall, their scarf sparing it from being broken fully.

Lefty's limbs locked and eyes swam with static, and a chill bloomed outward from their spine that numbed their body wherever it passed. They finally started to understand what the alpha was truly capable of. The reality of their situation settled in their stomach like a lead weight, and they began to cry softly. 'Maybe it'll be quick,' thought Lefty, cursing the gods for bringing them into this hellscape. Despite all the things they felt they deserved, this wasn't one of them. Even when they regained feeling they knew it was futile to struggle. 'Not just futile. Dangerous,' they reminded themself.

“That's much better. You're squirrelier than the other omegas here," said Patrick, reaching up to undo the knot in Lefty's scarf. He pulled it open and unfolded the musty old thing, then paused.

Patrick ran his fingers over the wound on the omega's nape, digging a nail under one of the scabs and breaking it open. Lefty expected to feel something when the alpha touched them there, but his hands brought about no stimulus beyond the sting of having the wound reopened.

“Claimed," whispered Patrick. He released his hold on the omega and backed away several steps. His scent sweetened slightly, just enough that Lefty could still detect it through clogged nostrils.

'Is he… afraid?'

“You're claimed!?" Shouted Patrick, slamming his fist into one of the office monitors and crushing the screen. “Where is your alpha!? WHERE IS HIS SCENT!?"

Lefty started sliding down the wall, but caught themself and turned so that they could brace their back against it instead. They pulled up their pants and held their scarf to keep it from falling. There was a path to the door but the omega's feet were still stuck fast to the tile.

“I don't know," Lefty said meekly. They choked on a fleck of dry blood and doubled over into a coughing fit. They hadn't been breathing for at least two minutes.

“You don't know? What the hell is- No, forget it. «Get out of my office!»" howled Patrick.

The world went dark around Lefty, and the only clues that they were moving were the changes in air pressure around them and the thumping of their feet in their sneakers. They regained themself as they banked around an aisle and slid through the checkout area. One hand snapped up to keep their scarf from falling off and the other flailed for balance as they dashed through the crowd and towards the exit. This mad dash ended abruptly when their shoe fell on a discarded receipt and the paper took their leg sideways instead of forwards. Lefty slammed into the ground and wailed, curling into a ball and shaking like a dying rabbit. After a moment a pair of hands fell on Lefty's back and they shot their foot out, catching a large figure in the stomach. They slid a short distance away and saw a man with slicked back hair and an expensive three piece suit that they'd probably just ruined.

“Ow, Jesus Lefty! Damn near busted a rib," gasped Gil, hauling the panicking enby to their feet and brushing some dirt off of their clothes.

“What are you doing here?" asked Lefty, eyes wide and stance low as they made ready to flee again.

Gil put his hands on Lefty's shoulders and pushed down, squeezing gently and bringing his forehead to theirs. “I had a bad feeling. Needed to come check on you," he said.

Lefty's play partner inhaled deeply and gripped their shoulders tighter as the skin around their eyes flushed. He ground his teeth and dug his fingernails into their clothes. Lefty didn't need to say anything, the scents clinging to their shaking body more than enough for Gil to figure it out in seconds.

“Who did this to you?" he asked, straightening up and glancing around as he sniffed at the air. His gaze fell on the back of the store and his nostrils flared. “I'm going to kill that man," he hissed, squaring his shoulders and releasing Lefty.

Lefty watched the alpha's blood boil and felt their own chill. 'He's an alpha. He's MY alpha.' they thought, snapping a hand to their nape. This was all wrong. Gil had promised to use sterile tools during their kink session. How could human teeth even leave a wound so jagged and deep!? Lefty started to hyperventilate, tensing every muscle in their abdomen to try and hold back an impending tsunami. Gil saw none of this, and gestured to Lefty to stay put as he began to move away.

“Wait! Please!" gasped Lefty, throwing themself against Gil's chest and wrapping their arms around him. They buried their face in his shirt and parted his jacket just to have more access.

“Please don't go," they begged, biting into his shirt and crushing the fabric between their teeth. They couldn't help it, their jaw hurt. Hell, everything hurt but the only relief they could find came from trying to ruin the expensive garment.

Gil looked down at the small, soft individual chewing on his clothing and saw Lefty for what they were. He saw an omega in need of soothing and protection. He saw his omega.

With a sigh, Gil embraced Lefty and let them cry for a while, gently guiding them out of the way of shoppers. He pulled them into the customer service area and peeled Lefty off his torso. “Let me help," he said.

Lefty wiped their face and swallowed a mouthful of bloody snot, allowing Gil to take their scarf and watching as the alpha unbuttoned his shirt. He shoved the musty old thing down against his chest and rubbed it around, saturating it with his own scent. The betas behind the desk held disgusted expressions as they watched, but neither alpha nor omega cared to notice. Gil gingerly wrapped the scarf back around Lefty's neck, ensuring that it came up just under their nose and folding it under itself in the back.

“Let's get you home," he said.

The drive to Lefty's building was done in complete silence, with the omega curled up in the passenger seat of Gil's Bronco with a mass of napkins over their nose. Even the trek upstairs was deafeningly quiet dotted by the scant few verbal cues Lefty was willing to offer as they directed Gil to their home. He hovered over the omega while they fumbled their keys, keeping himself from offering assistance even though it took far too long for Lefty to open the door and allow him inside. Lefty stripped down almost all the way, checking each article of clothing for smells before handing them all to Gil in a messy wad. The alpha found places to keep them in various crevices underneath his shirt, seating himself on the sofa while Lefty gathered up all the softest things they could find and piled it all near their computer desk. They glanced at Gil, rubbing their head and letting out a deep sigh before swaying over to their kitchen and disposing of their napkins now that their nose had stopped bleeding.

With adrenaline rapidly leaving their system, Lefty was starting to feel the onset of a migraine and a tightening in their chest. They pushed through it and picked through their spice cabinet, sniffing each one and either throwing it over their shoulder or placing it into a neat row on the counter. The rejects brought difficult memories when tested, and the ones they kept were either pleasant or caused no flashbacks at all. They bundled the spices into another towel and brought that to Gil, sitting against his leg and sorting them onto the coffee table. Satisfied, they looked up and opened their mouth, saying nothing and closing it again before crawling the short distance to their material pile. Each item was individually brought up for a whiff before either being tossed away or gently placed under the desk. They built a base of larger items before checking a hand towel and frowning.

“Mark this," they muttered, tossing it onto Gil's lap. “Please."

Lefty didn't bother to watch the alpha, simply turning back to their work and occasionally requesting an item either be marked or returned. They grew more talkative as the pile of linens and stuffed toys took on a more concave and inviting shape, commenting on the memory each one held and growing more animated about rejecting items as well. After nearly two hours of slow work, Lefty released a towel they'd been chewing on and let out a deep sigh.

“You ruined me, you know," they said casually, laughing to themself in contrast to the scent of burnt coffee rising around them. They'd never been so angry and so calm at the same time.

“I know," answered Gil. He didn't need to apologize, and it wouldn't have done much good. Instead, he pulled a hand towel out from under his butt and placed it in Lefty's outstretched hand.

Lefty sniffed it, frowned, and threw it at his face. “That needs cayenne," they said sharply.

Gil seasoned the towel and offered it again, and this time it found a place buried in the rim of the nest, against one of the alpha's socks.

“Do you wanna talk about it?" asked Gil.

Lefty ceased smoothing out a wrinkled sweater and growled before deflating slightly. “What happened? Why did you bite me- I mean, why so deep? Didn't you say you weren't going to break my skin?"

“I did. And I did. I'm sorry."

“Sorry doesn't even begin to cut it! Did you know what it would do to me!?" snapped Lefty, punching a stuffed rabbit off the side of their nest. Gil's silence spoke volumes.

“I did," he eventually repeated, speaking into his hands.

Lefty crawled over to retrieve the toy they'd punched, gnawed on one of its ears for a few seconds and ran their hand over their jaw. It was getting more sore by the moment and they were finding it hard to breathe as well.

“Toss me another," they said, laying the pink bunny on the edge of their nest and carefully posing it. A rag plopped onto the floor near them and they lifted it to their nose without looking away from their work, then gagged and threw it into the reject pile.

“No more putting anything… wherever that one was," they said, watching Gil awkwardly shimmy in place as he withdrew a washcloth from the front of his pants.

Lefty made a disgusted face and stuck their tongue out. “If you rub any more of my stuff on your balls I'll eat your kneecaps," they said, fixing Gil with a stare that could pierce steel. It only held for a moment before both of them broke down laughing.

“What the hell am I doing," asked Lefty, rubbing their eyes with the back of their hand. They looked over their creation and smiled, feeling like it was almost perfect. It only needed one more thing.

Lefty turned all the way around, looking up at the alpha on their couch and putting a hand on their breast. “Gil, my chest hurts," they said, tearing up again and shivering like they'd just walked into a freezer. “It hurts a lot."

Gil leaned forwards and laid a hand atop Lefty's head, combing his fingers into the enby's hair and gently teasing his fingernails over their scalp. “Mine hurts too."

Lefty closed their eyes, not wanting to worsen their migraine by trying to see through doubled vision. “That feels nice," they purred, pressing their head up into Gil's palm.

“We- shit. I'm sorry," said Gil, cupping Lefty's face and turning their head slightly. “You're burning up. We should do something about this," he said. His scent told the omega more than words could, and seemed to coil around Lefty from the ground up.

Lefty's body warmed as Gil's arousal invaded their psyche. “Oh, that's an odd feeling. Gil, don't tell me-"

“Lefty listen, when I bit you- it's a little worse than just having other alphas see that and know you're taken," said Gil, resting his forehead against theirs.

“I gathered that. I feel like my mind is turning to mush just having you here," said Lefty, pushing into his palms to soothe their fever. “Why are you acting so weird about it though?"

Gil sighed, blowing warm air down across Lefty's face and causing them to wrinkle their nose. “I really don't want to ask this, but you- fuck. You're just going to feel worse until we do something about this,"

Lefty scowled and pulled themself free of his hands. “Hey, plain English. We kinda rely on being able to understand each other for scenes," they spat.

“We need to have sex."

Lefty froze a moment, laying a hand on their chest and grinding their teeth as their heart threatened to beat itself to pieces on their ribcage. They hoped in vain that the awful ringing in their ears was to blame for what they'd heard Gil say.

“Gil…"

“Lefty- Maven, listen. There's a chance that the withdrawals could kill you. I can't let that happen," he snapped.

Lefty's eyes drifted closed and they sat up straight. Their given name had cut through the cotton in their head and alerted them to just how serious the alpha actually was.

“What do you need me to do, Gil?" they asked.

The alpha pinched Lefty's ear, eliciting a squeak from them and causing them to lose their train of thought. “Maven, show me your tail," he said.

Lefty swatted his hand away and looked down at their own legs. “Do we have to do this? Sex isn't exactly my thing," they said.

Gil slid off the couch and sat before Lefty, lifting their chin to help the omega hold eye-contact with him. “I can't stand to see you suffer, Maven."

Lefty held his gaze as long as they could before closing their eyes again and letting their weight fall against Gil's chest. “I know. I just don't think I can say yes though," they said, clutching handfuls of the alpha's shirt and inhaling sharply. “Patrick used his voice. Gave me orders that I followed before I could think."

“I won't-“

“Force me. I can't- I can't do this unless-“

“I refuse!" shouted Gil, squeezing the omega tight and snarling through gritted teeth. “I refuse to use the growl for something as stupid as sex. It's barbaric!"

Lefty cried softly against the alpha, planting a hand firmly on his chest and pushing themself up. “Damn you," they said, kicking their heel into the floor and cursing as it slipped off the laminate..

They tried twice more to find purchase before managing to push themself back towards their nest. Gil followed and aided the weakening omega up into their carefully-built bed, keeping their lower half raised over the side as he peeled off Lefty's briefs. He could already see the wet patch on the garment's underside but he still took a moment to inspect his partner's hole. It was as he expected, slightly swollen and glistening with slick. Lefty was ready whether or not they wanted to be. They were already starting to relax as anticipation began to soften their withdrawal symptoms.

“Why is it this bad?" whimpered Lefty, watching Gil undress and pulling a teddy bear against their chest.

"I wish I knew," sighed Gil, kneeling between Lefty's legs and pressing his thumb to their anus, spreading it slightly and using his other hand to aim himself. "Deep breath in."

"Like I'm getting a shot, then," mumbled the omega, closing their eyes and inhaling slowly. they grit their teeth and whimpered as the pressure in their backdoor built and yelped as the oh-so-sacred spot was breached.

Gil pushed on, sinking deeper and listening for any sign of distress from their partner as he went. He stopped around halfway when the omega hissed, kicked one of their feet and squeezed their teddy tighter. "Checking in, you good?"

It was the same thing he always said when they were together, almost always right after a particularly hard whack from one of his impact tools. Any time he needed a call to keep play going, he'd ask for it the same exact way. Lefty pushed themself up on an elbow and took stock of their surroundings.

"I'm home, I'm comfortable…" they said, closing their eyes and savoring the warmth and scent of Gil's body as it cloaked them and their nest. "...And I'm with someone I trust. I'm good," they said, laying back and deflating under their own weight.

The alpha sighed and laid a hand on Lefty's abdomen, hooking his other arm under their leg and rolling his hips forwards. He massaged their belly as he made a few tentative thrusts, meeting the omega's backside with his hips and shuddering. "I'm going as easy as I can, buddy, but I'll be honest, you feel really good," said Gil, grinding himself against their partner's body.

Lefty let out a held breath and started panting, letting their mouth hang open as their heart rate finally began to slow. "Fucking hell, I'm glad one of us is having fun," they gasped, covering their face with their stuffed toy.

"We're not too deep for a safeword, Maven," said Gil.

"That's bullshit, and I'm not calling. Just enjoy yourself, okay?" huffed Lefty, twisting and turning their hips slowly as their body reacted to the intruding member. Their blood felt thick and their muscles numbed just enough to be pleasantly warm and tingly. "I'm swaying like a bitch, Gil. I hate this."

The alpha shifted slightly, pulling back and getting up onto one of his feet, then the other. He leaned forward, planting his hands to either side of Lefty's body in the plush mass of their nest and cloaking them in his shadow. "I'll make this fast then. Hang on tight, friend."

Gil pulled out all the way and dropped himself back down with a wet plap. He yanked his hips back, finding a steady enough rhythm as he started pushing the omega deeper into the pile of cloth. Each beat of his hips forced either a sigh or some form of whiny squeaking sound out of Lefty and they couldn't keep their breathing steady at all. 'I should be screaming, or kicking, or fighting, or crying…' they thought, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep their eyelids from fluttering. '…I don't think I need to, though.' Their gaze drifted from the plaster to their alpha's face, following a bead of sweat from his forehead and down past his features. Even with gritted teeth and his eyes screwed shut from exertion, he looked almost soft. He looked happy, too. 'If he feels even half as good at looks, that's okay with me' they mused, laying their head back and closing their eyes. One of their hands found the alpha's side and their throat produced an embarrassing sound, like a cross between an annoyed husky and a leaf blower.

Pausing to catch his breath, Gil leaned further forwards and laid his chest against Lefty's and brought their hips just a bit higher. They'd be content to keep their legs splayed out and flailing but the tension in the omega's guts started to build enough that they couldn't. Lefty snapped their knees to the alpha's sides, throwing their legs around his back as his mouth brushed their throat. He pinched a fold of Lefty's skin between his teeth, finding just one more way to hold them as his movements continued building speed. The omega wrapped both their arms around him now, grinding their teeth and spitting a few curse words between gasps. Gil was managing to drag their body up towards a peak they weren't expecting to come to so easily, and they dug their nails into his back as a particularly intense contraction hit their abdomen.

'I might actually cum,' thought Lefty, dragging their claws down the alpha's back as their body tightened around him in all the ways it could. It was a delightfully familiar sensation, drifting in blissful surrender to their partner's actions. Their legs quaked and their breath came in unsteady, shallow pulls that did little for them beyond filling Lefty's lungs with more of Gil's pheromones. This was a level of vulnerability he'd never managed to make the enby feel, and perhaps that was why it was difficult for Lefty to allow themself to surrender. 'Damn you, damn you for being such a brilliant idiot,' they thought. Even thinking was getting harder as the omega sunk into the moment. Their alpha was digging his flesh so deeply into theirs, striking nerves and muscle that shot bolts of electricity from their tail to the base of their skull.

“I'm close, Maven," said Gil, releasing Lefty's neck and lowering his head beside theirs.

“Don't…" Lefty huffed, curling their toes and nuzzling against his head. “…Don't talk like that. Just do it already."

The alpha bottomed out hard, blowing the air from Lefty's lungs with his hips and biting down onto their shoulder. A string of mild concerns flipped through their mind as heat suffused their lower body. 'That's going to bruise. He's finishing inside? I'm tightening up.' They drew in a deep breath, cried out an embarrassingly loud “FUCK!" and kicked one of their feet against the open air. Waves of tension and release rippled out from their abdomen and Lefty squeezed their eyes shut as their member, softened by a decade of estrogen supplements, loosed a burst of sticky fluids into the space between their bodies. It drooled against they and Gil's bellies, and their tail released a rush of slick around the base of the alpha's shaft. They gasped again, feeling Gil's malehood expand just inside their entrance cursing loudly into the alpha's ear as their body flooded itself with endorphins. It felt like a betrayal for their body to reward them with biochemical coercion. Lefty couldn't care though. Quite literally, in fact, as their emotional spectrum narrowed until only their alpha remained. For now, only in this moment, that was perfectly okay with them

The pair remained joined together, warm and happy and safe for several minutes.

---

“We're stuck, aren't we?" huffed Lefty, finding their voice despite their large amount of weight on their chest. “I'm not imagining that?"

“Yeah," Gil said, pushing himself up onto his hands so Lefty could breathe.

The omega shuddered as cool air filled the new space, trailing a hand down their front and frowning. “Look what you made me do, you jerk. I'm a mess," said Lefty, giggling and sniffing their fingertips and scrunching up their face. “Oh yuck! Of all things to smell normal," they said, wiping the gunk off in one of their nest's many towels.

Gil laughed, scooping Lefty up under one arm and using the other to help push himself back, dropping to his knees on the floor outside the omega's nest before lowering them back into it. There was much wincing and whining from Lefty as he did this, and at least one complaint of 'quit pulling on my ass like that' before they were both settled again.

“Wanted to grab this for you," said Gil, reaching behind himself and retrieving Lefty's phone from their crumpled up jeans. He laid the device beside Lefty and watched them fiddle with it with a stupid smile on his face.

Lefty booted up some game, clicking through a few ads before merrily swiping to and fro as the sounds of railway cars and cartoonish money sounded from its tinny speaker. Gil did more or less the same thing, scrolling through recent articles in the local news.

“So, should we be worried about how full my guts feel?" asked Lefty, pumping their fist as they won one of their game's quests.

“I've got Plan B in my jacket," answered Gil, lowering his phone and trailing his gaze up Lefty's body.

The omega frowned, plopped their device down onto their chest and closed their eyes. “That explains a lot. Was meaning to ask why you were at my store today," they said.

“How does it- oh, OH! I get it. God I'm stupid," Gil said, thumping himself on the forehead. “I swear I wasn't planning this. You weren't answering my messages and I was starting to worry about you."

Lefty's heart sank, and they sighed. “Sorry."

“It's okay, just please stay in touch from now on?" said Gil, squeezing Lefty's leg gently. “Even just talking to me would have helped with the withdrawals."

“I know that now, Gil!" snipped Lefty. They thumped their fist into the side of their nest and shook their head. “I'm getting emotional, sorry. I'll keep in touch but…"

Lefty swallowed and wiped their face, then let their hand flop back to their side. “…If you weren't there, I don't know if I'd have made it home."

“Don't talk like that."

“It's true, though. Patrick broke something in me. He reminded me of how powerless I used to feel," continued Lefty, grunting as their muscles twitched around Gil's knot. They were stuck fast, and every little movement the alpha made tugged in not-entirely-unpleasant ways.

“You're not powerless. Remember how nervous you were when we met? You didn't even take your jacket off until I mentioned it'd probably stop you from feeling half my tools," said Gil, sliding his thumb between his hip and Lefty's hole. “Won't be long now."

Lefty huffed dramatically and folded their arms across their chest, giggling at the little squishing noise it made. “I remember. I damn near had a heart attack when you suggested a collar," they said.

Gil rubbed his neck and laughed along with the omega. “Your face was perfect, but I can't say I expected you to pick one out for yourself."

“I half expected you to cry when I gave it to you," said Lefty, reveling in his partner's embarrassment. It was nice to have a captive audience for a change.

“Hey, Maven. You should find another job," said Gil, tugging on the tie and shaking his head.

Lefty hissed and shuddered, gripping their nest tightly. “I can't afford to. I don't have any savings," they said sheepishly.

“I can float you. I'd offer to have you move in with me, but I get the feeling you'd rather not," said Gil. It was probably the smartest thing he'd said all night.

“I'm not okay with either option… but you're right about my job. Going back would be walking into hell in fuck-me boots and a neon thong," they said. Gil snorted, prompting Lefty to wipe a bit of spit off their face.

“So should I start making arrangements?"

“Can we save the negotiations for when you're not stuck up my butt?" said Lefty, propping themself up and tugging their genitals out of the way of their view. “God damn that's nasty. At least it smells better than it looks."

“you're adorable, you know that?" asked Gil, chuckling. Should I order us a pizza?"

“Hell yeah you should. I like pepperoni, and can we do stuffed crust?"

---

Two weeks later

Lefty sat at their computer desk with one of Gil's socks in their mouth, idly chewing on it while they filled out the fourth disclosure document they'd seen in as many hours. They sighed into the fabric, spitting it onto the desk and checking the time. Rather than finish it, they decided to pause their job search and take a minute to tend to their plants. They poured a small bit of water from a stale bottle on their desk into their aloe vera's pot, feeling the vibrant, plush fronds and letting out a chipper hum. They splashed some water into their mint's home too and gave the poor shriveled thing a poke. The leaf their finger brushed snapped away and flopped into the dirt, right next to a bright green stalk that had no idea what fresh hell it was being born into. A knock at the door startled the omega out of their moment of pity, and they straightened up and stared hard towards the sound. 'Like a damned meerkat," they mused, laughing to themself and sauntering over to press their ear to the wood.

Plastic and paper shuffled outside, and the smells of various foodstuffs and cleaning supplies crept under the door as the delivery person snapped their photo. When their footsteps had faded beyond the hall, Lefty opened the door and dragged everything inside to be put away. Each thing was given a cursory sniff before being shelved, but the bags of cookies-and-cream candy bars went with them back to their nest. Lefty upended the bag into it, snapped a photo of the mess for Gil, and started poking the candies into the folds of the towels, sheets and stolen clothing there. The mass of textiles had evolved a bit since its birth, smelling as much like its creator as it did their mate.

Said mate replied to their message with a thumbs up, and a reminder that there'd be a full moon in a few days.

“Oh that's neat, been a bit since I've gone out of my way to look at the moon," replied Lefty, fishing some candy back out and picking some fleece off the wrapper.

“Yeah about that. You have a heat kit right?" was Gil's response.

“I do, but I'm also on bio-matched meds now. I haven't had any flashbacks in days and the last guy that growled at me got jack from it," answered Lefty.

“That's great! Let's go camping!" texted Gil.

This was clearly a way of telling Lefty that something was wrong, but the omega wasn't having it. They sucked on their sweet and let the alpha stew for a moment before messaging him back.

“Real talk, dumbass. What's going on?"

Lefty's phone showed that Gil was typing, then it didn't. He typed some more, deleted his messages and started over again.

“We're shifters. Kinda like werewolves. It's complicated." Is what he finally managed to send after four attempts.

Lefty read the message a few times, speedrunning the stages of grief before shaking their head and cursing aloud. They flopped face down into their nest, then rolled over and replied to Gil's message with a cartoon of a shiba inu sticking out its tongue.

“You are gonna owe me so many socks, you moron. Furry sex party in the woods it is, then."