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John’s never been focused on sub-genders. All the bullshit and stigma—the roles that have been placed and pushed upon people just because of some societal conforming mess.
Rules have never been his forte, never been a top priority for him. So when he presented as an omega, and the people around him started to treat him more….fragile. Trying to push his personality down and shift him into some little box, that only a docile omega could fit into, he sort of….snapped.
He threw himself into the more bold—loud and unashamed parts of himself. Parts that people tried to lock away under the guise of finding an alpha or at the very least a pack to take him in—accept him.
It had been a dark time in John’s life. Throwing himself into learning to edit videos and late night gaming sessions—an ill attempt to forget the prickle of discomfort at those around him. This weird game of not wanting to be perceived—and yet a longing to be seen for more than some omega.
Its’s when he met Smitty. Years and years back, a blip of a memory that grows hazy the more years pass by. It was a late night discord call, Tyler and Anthony had been blabbering on about who knows what when Scotty joined, bringing the chaotic storm introduced only as Smitty, into the call with him.
It was quiet as Scotty introduced him, a small silence before the other spoke. Young—similarly in age with John. He knew the layer of fear that must’ve blanketed over him, getting thrown into vc with guys years older than him, an already established friendship being intruded on. It would be Smitty’s next words that would determine how he fit in.
“Sup fuckers.”
Just like that the tension broke. Anthony’s wheeze of a laugh filling the call as Tyler welcomed him in.
It was those two little words that had settled something in John. Something that had long lay dormant since his first heat. A sense of belonging.
He didn’t have to pretend with Smitty. Didn’t have to act bigger than he was, didn’t have to show off what he didn’t have.
He tried at first. A macho act to squash away any lingering omegan instincts or traits. Any attributes that Smitty would shy away from—treating him different.
“Are we in a pissing contest or something? What’s with the dick measuring.” Smitty had asked, a laugh in his voice. Easy going—that’s how John would describe him.
“Oh—I just…” For once he was at a loss of words. His ego cooling out into something mellowed, chilled around the beta. For once he was….dare he say happy.
He might’ve played up a lot of his personality but…with Smitty everything felt so….colorful.
They were in-tuned with each other. A weird sense of connection that John hadn’t felt with anyone else. He could easily throw out some cringe one liner that Smitty would follow up on. Even if it would be followed by the beta laughing, cheeks turning pink from the dirtied words.
“Stop railing me! You’re just FUCKING ME AT THIS POINT!”
“Bend over more. Quit moving!”
Any joke that John would throw out—any bit he’d do, Smitty would jump on. Face devoid of any joyful expressions, and a stark tone of seriousness in his voice—only breaking when he couldn’t hold his laughter in.
It was just the two of them on this weird wavelength for a while. A serene peace that John relished in. And then John met Matt.
An alpha that Smitty had grown up with. A fact that had jealousy simmering beneath his skin. His omega clawing at his insides—scent spiking with something rotten.
He remember’s meeting Matt. A man ‘more chaotic than me or you, so be prepared!’ Smitty had joked—yet the level of caution in his voice had swirled on the more protective side. And John couldn’t help the pang of envy he had felt. Of course Smitty’s gonna be close with other people—especially someone he grew up with…..especially an alpha.
Matt had entered the call, his voice muddled in sleep and a mic that sounded like it had come straight from the dollar store. Immediately John had to pull his headphones off, faintly hearing Smitty’s voice yelling at Matt to ‘fix his mic.’
“Sorry! Sorry!” Matt had hurried out, attempting to fix his shit show of a mic.
“Sorry about him, he doesn’t have an off switch.” Smitty had laughed, something fond in his voice as he re-introduced them.
John tried to hate Matt. Tried to dislike the alpha, tried his hardest to ignore the younger when he’d join what was once private calls between John and Smitty, but…
Matt was likable. Funny, loud in ways Smitty and John were. He was a ball of weird phrases and knowledge on strange things. He was off putting in a lovable sense. Someone that John just…clicked with. Not like he had with Smitty, but in a whole new, separate way. If meeting Smitty felt like finding himself, meeting Matt was like…discovering some new thing about himself.
Confrontation leveled in the knowledge of comfort and serenity versus the challenge of branching out. A push and pull he let himself fall into with both Smitty and Matt.
It honestly felt weird carving out a place in his life for the two. Somewhere along the line his heart started beating just a bit faster at the thought of them. A weird flip—a stutter in his breath at some quip Smitty would say—or some gesture Matt would do.
The usual flirty banter suddenly felt all too real.
“Your just mad your shit at this game.”
“Oh suck my dick John.”
His usual response stopped at the tip of his tongue, cheeks burning with not quite embarrassment. He‘s never been so happy to have his face cam off.
Even small gestures like Matt going out of his way to send John random videos or pictures that remind the alpha of the omega, it felt so….domestic. A romantic intimacy that John hadn’t been privy to before.
”Saw these jeans on Pinterest! The painted swirls on the bottom reminded me of the butterfly pants you did!”
John practically swooned at that. A clenching of his heart and a sweetening of his scent.
A few months into meeting Smitty, he had latched onto the idea of crushing on the beta. It took him maybe a year or two after that before he came to the conclusion that he likes the both of them. Unable to choose just one, they both offer something that soothes the insecure and damaged part of him. He still shudders when he thinks on ‘friends’ calling him that. Damaged. Used goods. It was Matt who scoffed at that. A late night where John had just a bit too much to drink, and no outlet to vent to (Smitty) John decided to rant out his feelings and insecurities to a way too sober Matt. And despite how drunk he felt, he still remembers the alphas words as he not only soothed John, but also defended him.
The shift in his life felt very organic. A nice and subtle change. Nothing drastic but just enough for him to become noticeably lighter…happier. More….content with himself.
Both alpha and beta have wormed their way into John’s life, that he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d spend it with.
He just hopes rooming with them in Vegas doesn’t go as wrong as his instincts are rattling about. The need to not drive the two away—bulldozed by the want to have them close. It’ll be in a few weeks where everything might change. For better or for worse.
You know what they say….what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.