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Yes, You Are Page 2
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Still, Oscar did have one good point: with the language and the willingness to dive fist-first into every fight he could find, Darian really should have known way sooner how he’d turn out. Showed him for making assumptions about the gender binary, didn’t it?
Darian drew deeply on the cigarette and passed it back. “Would you look at us? We are such bad examples, smoking on school grounds.” College grounds, but whatever. He and Oscar both had their bachelor’s degrees in education, but neither of them wanted to stop there. All the way to the top with a Dr. in front of their names, or nothing at all, and specialized summer intensive courses like the one they’d come here for were a place to start. “We should be ashamed.”
“Educators of impressionable youths that we’re going to be and all that bullshit,” Oscar agreed.
“If these assholes get their dicks untied any time before the summer session starts.” Darian lifted his chin at the group of busily bickering housing officials clustered in a knot not far away around a registration table, heads bent worriedly together while discussing the usual: what to do with a problem like himself. “So there was a storm last week that flooded the graduate housing, and no one thought to tell any of us. Awesome.”
The more things changed…
“Even so, I don’t get what the deal is,” Oscar mused. “I mean, I don’t give a fuck about sharing if the only room left is a single, and I know you don’t. They always put Alphas together anyhow. Don’t see why they’re all hot and bothered about it.”
“Probably fire codes. Weight capacity. Plus all those crazy orgies you know boys like us throw.”
“Because that happens so often.”
“Pfft. I wish.” Darian shook his head. “Nah. Five more minutes, and I’m going to put a word in, and you know how I feel about that.”
Oscar shrugged as if to say it’s your funeral.
Or theirs, maybe. Darian’d worked hard on reining in his lightning trigger after presenting a gender, partly because of Coby. He’d never expected to be an Alpha, but be damned if he wouldn’t be the best one he could manage either. “Five more minutes.” He stubbed the cigarette out to underscore his point. “Start your watches.”
Oscar didn’t have a watch, but he did have half a pack of cigarettes left, a brutal nicotine habit, and a willingness to share. He pulled out a second smoke and lit up before exhaling a thoughtful cloud. “Second Chance, huh?” Which was where they were, after a stupidly hair-raising trip on a train that should have been in a museum decades ago which finished up two inches away from a drop into the pits of infinity. “Think whoever named it had a thing for optimism?”
“Or irony. Don’t know, don’t really care. They have one of best secondary educator’s courses on the East Coast.”
“Say that five times fast.”
“How about I don’t?” Darian shifted forward, frowning at the clustered clusterfuck going on at the tables. “Something about that seem odd to you?”
“Like how?”
“They’re looking at me, but they’re looking down the way too.” Darian couldn’t see what they were gesturing at, or who, but at least half of them were trying to subtly jab their pointers to the left. One of them, a tall bastard with a jaw like a nutcracker, finally sliced his hands sharply sideways through the air, caught Darian’s eye, and flicked a couple of fingers at him to gesture him back to the group. He stood, dusting off his ass with a few brisk swats, and stole one more drag off Oscar’s cigarette. “Here we go.”
“Me too?”
“Odds are. Besides, no matter what’s going on you live for licking up spilled tea.”
“I do love that,” Oscar agreed. He didn’t bother to dust himself off when he stood, comfortable ambling around with grass clippings stuck to his ass. “Let’s roll.”
And roll they did, deliberately taking their time about it even if they didn’t have far to go. Hands in their pockets, moving with a comfortable slouch, showing the world: this is what we are, even if we don’t look like it. No apologies.
Darian didn’t see what the problem was until they got nearly close enough to reach out and touch it, and once he did he couldn’t figure how he’d missed it in the first place. A couple yards past the knot of arguing administrators, on a low brick wall, hunched a fucking giant of a man. He’d curled in on himself so tightly, head down, that anyone who wasn’t built like a Viking would have looked small. This guy had no chance of that, seriously ever.
Huh. Darian frowned at the man. Couldn’t see his face, but there was something familiar about…
Then, the guy raised his head to sneak a glance at them, and the second Darian saw the flash of those hawk-gold eyes, he knew. He fucking knew.
“Jesus Christ. Coby?”
Coby -- because it was him -- gaped at Darian, his mouth dropping open in surprise.
One of the administrators facepalmed. “They know each other? I told you this wouldn’t work.”
“So? They have a history that doesn’t involve --” Nutcracker Jaw stopped himself. “All the more reason it will work.”
Okay, that was enough of that. “Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?” Darian demanded, louder than he needed to be to get their full and undivided attention.
Worked too. Oscar winced away from him, hands over his ears -- sorry, Oscar -- but the full contingent of admins stopped to blink at him in surprise and Coby’s hawk eyes went wide as saucers.
Good. Darian put his hands on his hips. “We’re here to be educated. Educate me.”
The admins exchanged glances of varying disapproval and insistence, but Nutcracker Jaw -- who seemed to be in charge or at least willing to step up -- took the lead, and boy, was he everything an Alpha should be even if he didn’t look the least little bit fazed by Darian’s temper. Points to him. “We have a situation.”
“No, really?” Darian took another look past him at Coby, who’d slumped down again and hugged himself around the middle. “Involving him, or what?”
“Yes. It’s policy to put Alphas and Alphas and Omegas and Omegas together, like that ever stopped anyone from hooking up whenever they wanted to --”
Okay, Darian did like this guy.
“But.” Nutcracker Jaw hooked his thumb back at Coby. “He’s the only Omega left without a roommate.”
Darian’s jaw dropped. He’d kick his own ass for that later, but for now --”Say again? He’s a what?”
Coby hunched deeper and fisted his hands in his hair, then shook his head and sat up straight. Darian could see the effort it cost him, and the angry defiance in his hawk eyes. He’d seen that look in the mirror most of his life. “I’m an Omega. Me. And you’re not.”
Behind him, Oscar whistled. “Holy fuck.”
Nutcracker Jaw cleared his throat. “There’s a single left, and a double. We could put him in the single, but he presented late, a year or so ago, and he’s too much of a temptation without an Alpha around to watch his back.” To his credit, Nutcracker Jaw looked like he didn’t think it was fair either. “We want to put one of you two in with him. You can choose who, but I say it should be you. You’ve got enough scars on your knuckles that I can tell you’d do a good job of defending his honor if someone tries to take advantage of him not having a buddy, and whether he likes it or not, he needs it.”
Coby kept his head high, but he was angry as hell now and red streaks of embarrassment marred his cheeks.
Shit. Darian couldn’t blame Coby for that. And he couldn’t help admiring him, either. Any other Omega would have turned inside out with shame by now, but Coby had what it took to fight back. Mostly. He stared straight at Darian, daring him to kick up a real donnybrook.
Darian made up his mind in that second. “I’m in. Give me the keys, and let’s go.”
* * *
Keys in hand, Darian was five steps ahead before he realized Coby hadn’t budged. He looked over his shoulder. “Well? Are you coming?”
Reluctantly, taking one more glance at the admin
s probably to make sure this was really happening, Coby unfolded himself. He was still half a foot taller than Darian, maybe more, and he’d filled out those lanky bones into wide shoulders and legs long enough to make a man want to try and climb him like a tree. I mean -- damn.
But Coby didn’t walk like he used to, full of confidence. He sloped along with a slouching kind of gait that suggested bashful uncertainty, and the way he kept his head down indicated shyness, but the look on his face was nothing but pure, frustrated rage.
Darian couldn’t blame him. Hell, this was fucking with his head. He could only imagine how tangled up Coby had to feel about it. Coby, an Omega? Seriously? He made an even weirder specimen that way than Darian did in his, so what the fuck even.
Behind them, Oscar gave them a wry salute before turning to head for his single digs.
“Bastard,” Darian muttered before turning to give Coby a dose of straight eye contact. “This isn’t how I planned for things to turn out either, but since they did, we can either bitch about it or make the best of it,” he said bluntly. “So come on. Or don’t, but if that’s your call then I’m going to leave you behind. It’s not even noon and I am fucking tired. So?”
Coby looked like he was going to argue, then shook his head and fell into step. He tried to stay behind, act like they weren’t together, but his legs were too long not to catch up. When he did, Darian had the weirdest urge to take his arm. Just an urge, of course. An Alpha thing, a real throwback to the days when a gentleman would take a submissive’s arm to guide him. If he tried that now, fuck knew if this new angry Coby would try and break his elbow.
Darian didn’t do playing it safe, but unusual times called for unusual circumstances. He kept his hands in his pocket and his walk to an amble, and -- again, not his usual thing -- took a stab at small talk. Anything to calm Coby down before his head imploded. “You’re a teacher too, huh? No kidding. Makes sense, now I think of it. I don’t make sense, but I’d started the pre-classes before things turned out like they did, and I’d put in too much work to go back.”
No answer.
Annoyed, Darian tried again. He hooked a thumb backward. “That was Oscar, a friend from back home. He can be a real douche sometimes, but deep down he’s pretty decent. A good guy to count on, in case you were wondering.”
Which Darian could tell Coby wasn’t. Too lost in his own head and his flinching awareness of every single person who paused to give them either odd or shocked looks when they put two and two together. Darian would have ignored those -- he’d gotten used to them years ago -- but being with Coby made him glower at everyone, daring them to make a deal out of it, and he could only do that so much before he gave himself a fucking migraine.
One more shot. “What are you teaching?” Darian asked. “I’m math. Calculus, trig, and basic algebra as I need to.”
Coby shook his head and kept his trap firmly shut, his head so far down that his chin almost touched his chest and yep, there went the temper Darian really did try to keep locked down. Didn’t help that looking at Coby made his mouth water and that pissed him right off because for fucks’ sake, his libido needed to mind its own business right now. The rest of him didn’t like the way the Coby he remembered had changed, and his being Omega wasn’t part of that.
He stopped in front of the big man, blocking his path, and lifted his chin. “Would you mind looking at me? And while we’re at it, what the fuck besides the obvious is your problem? It’s not like this is easy for me either.”
Coby glowered at Darian and shouldered past him, strong enough to jostle him aside.
Okay. That was really it.
Darian put on a burst of speed and shouldered past Coby in turn, minus the passive-aggressive shove, and walked in front of him all the way to the housing they’d been assigned. Not much to look at, just your basic small dorm. Still, his key worked on the front door and, down the hall, the quarters he and Coby would be sharing. God help them.
Which were not bad, actually. Darian’s eyebrows went up as he took it in. Roomy enough for two grown men to move around in without knocking elbows, decent closets, a closed door that was likely a private toilet. Even a mini-kitchenette with a sink, a cabinet, and space above a micro-fridge for a coffee pot and an illegal hot plate.
And of course, twin beds shoved in opposite corners.
Darian wrinkled his nose at them. “You’re not going to be able to fit in one of those. You’ll dangle off from the shins down.”
Coby shut the door behind them, and holy shit, Darian had not expected what happened then, nor had he noticed the near-total lack of airflow in there with the windows closed. His own Alpha scent wafted out in waves that completely failed to mask Coby’s Omega scent. Gunpowder and pennyroyal. They shouldn’t have gone together at all, but somehow they did and they gave Darian an immediate half hard-on that he was glad as all hell his loose shirt covered.
The Omega -- no, don’t call him that, he’s more than his gender -- Coby -- was looking at him now, boy howdy, his hawk eyes gone so wide that the whites showed around his irises. “You really are an Alpha. How?”
“You really want me to explain biology to you?”
Coby ignored that. “You don’t look like an Alpha.” He started to reach for Coby with one hand, then pulled back at the last second. Even so, Darian had the strangest sensation that he’d followed through. He could feel the warmth on his cheek. “You’re still little, and still pretty, and -- look at me.”
Darian resisted the urge to rub his cheek. “I don’t look like an Alpha, and you don’t look like an Omega, so aren’t we an equal pair?”
“Equal,” Coby scoffed. He wrapped his arms around himself again squeezing tight. “Do you know the kind of shit I went through when I didn’t present, and when I did --”
“About the same kind of shit I did, I’d guess,” Darian retorted. “And if you’re going to have an attitude about it all summer --”
“Like you’re one to talk!”
Darian sailed past that. Mostly because he was right. “If that’s how you want to be, then I’m setting some ground rules.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “If we can’t get along, we keep our mouths shut when we’re in the same room. No bringing anyone back here to fuck, and that includes me with Oscar -- yes, we do fuck sometimes, because neither of us is all that sold on the standard rules. Find somewhere else or it’ll confuse everyone’s nose.”
Coby looked at him, shaking his head. “I didn’t ask for this. Any of it. I didn’t ask to be an Omega.”
“Who the fuck does? I didn’t.”
“You didn’t get it, either,” Coby fired back. “And you know what? I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. I didn’t ask to share with you.”
“No, the resident director or whoever-the-fuck he is did, so if you have a problem you can take it up with him, mkay?” It wasn’t that Darian didn’t feel any sympathy or empathy for the guy. Turning out not to be what you’d always thought was hard, right? Which meant something else needed saying. He held up a finger. “One last rule. No bullshit embarrassment. We are what we are, and we can’t change that. In here, neither of us has room to hide.”
“And you’d be damned if you even wanted to try,” Coby scoffed. He dropped his bags in a messy heap, a deliberate insult from an Omega. “So it’s really easy for you to say, isn’t it? I’m out of here. There’s got to be somewhere else.”
He stormed out, slamming the door with a bang behind him.
“Shit,” Darian said aloud. He rubbed at his forehead. Well, this was going to be a fun summer, wasn’t it?
And that right there was probably the understatement of the year.
* * *
Darian couldn’t sleep.
Coby might have slammed out, but he’d sure as hell left his scent behind and it permeated everything -- by which Darian meant everything. His skin. His clothes. His hair. His fucking boots, for God’s sake.
He took a shower.
He opened b
oth windows and then the door to let a cross-breeze through.
He took another shower, then tossed everything he’d been wearing except the boots in the washing machines he found in the dorm’s basement. Which, by the way, belonged in a horror movie set. Just saying. Spiderwebs everywhere and probably some kind of Gollum-like creatures cringing in the darker corners that he hadn’t stuck around long enough to poke into.
No luck. The second Darian got back to his -- their -- room, the sweet smell still saturated every molecule of air. What was it made of, Velcro? Jesus.
So Darian shoved every last one of Coby’s bags into the back of the closet, shut its door, and stuffed a towel against the bottom jamb.
He thought about taking a third shower, but he didn’t have a lot of skin left that wasn’t scrubbed almost raw except for one specific area. Because, come on. Darian wasn’t a complete bastard. He might have stayed hard after Coby left and sure, he was an Alpha, but that didn’t give him the right to beat his chest, howl like Tarzan, and whack off to whoever, whenever.
But… it wouldn’t have been the first time he gave himself a hand to thoughts of Coby, either, though the shoe had usually been on the other foot. So to speak. The dick in the other ass, if you wanted to get specific.
Which Darian was trying very hard not to do, okay?
When he opened the dryer to find his laundry smelling like dryer sheets and Omega, he took a third shower that mostly consisted of standing under the spray, so mad at himself that he was steaming more than the hot water. He glowered down at his dick, which gave him a one-eyed glare right back as it refused to take the hint.
Darian made his bed, stuffed wads of Kleenex up his nose, and fell into it the first time he caught himself yawning. Sleep. Sleep was the frustrated Alpha’s friend.