But he can't pretend he isn't curious.
"Just call him. How long are you gonna stare at that fucking card?" Alpha isn't even looking at Omega, eyes focused on the screen where he's turbo-killing a horde of zombie death cheerleaders. He doesn't need to look, he can practically hear the wheels turning in his boyfriend's head, like they've been turning for days.
They're curled up together on the couch in Alpha's basement, Alpha's legs in Omega's lap. Omega is staring at the stark white business card on the table in front of him. He's been telling himself to throw it away for days, carrying it around like any moment he's going to pitch it into the trash can. "I'm going to get rid of it. He was weird, probably messing with me. Just because he smelled good--"
"Oh shit, you didn't mention that." Alpha pauses his game and looks at him, a dark brown curl falling to brush his forehead. "Tell me about this sexy creep and his tasty scent, Megs. I need deets. I wasn't paying attention when I got him his coffee."
Omega huffs at the teasing, reaching over to gently sweep Alpha's wayward curl back into the messy mop he wears his hair in these days. It's a little longer than it had been a few years ago, and the gently curled ends of his hair really soften his face. It suits him. Every day he gets more attractive, and Omega gets to kiss him. How's that for incredible luck?
"I didn't mention it because it's not important. He just. He smelled okay. I mean. Y'know it was nice, he--it was--"
Alpha snickers, and Omega stops talking with a grimace. "Baby, you are so red right now. He really did something to you, huh Megs?" Alpha gets to his knees and straddles Omega's lap, drawing him in for a kiss. "Call him. Set up a meeting. I'll go with you. Fuck knows I wanna get a better look at him, among other things. Maybe I'll like what I see, too."
Omega grew up with the certainty that he'd be alone for his life. Utterly average, completely unremarkable. When he'd became a potential mate for anyone, Omega had believed, in the depths of his heart, that he would never be someone's love, never be part of a relationship with even one person, let alone the more traditional three people relationship. Even though he only knew a few people whose parents conformed to that standard, those relationships were all over the tv, every sitcom boasting a female surrounded by two doting men and a houseful of kids, romantic comedies in theaters showing a happy couple finding the perfect addition, or a man and woman running into a remarkable second guy who they just couldn't let go. Omega never expected that for himself, even if he secretly wanted it since before he came out. To be so surrounded with love, with support. To devote himself to a relationship like that.
Now, he's got Alpha. Looking back, he's always had Alpha. Omega privately thinks that maybe his biology lined up with Alpha's, that he is who he is now just so he could be there for Alpha. Two years of inhaling Alpha's bottom-y pheromones might have kicked Omega face first into a relationship with him. Crazier shit had happened.
Alpha's soft lips brushing his own bring Omega back to the present. "Tell me you're gonna call him, Omega. Even if it doesn't go anywhere, maybe he's selling something good. Let's at least hear him out."
Omega nuzzles Alpha's throat, taking a deep, calming breath of his familiar spicy sweetness, the skin beneath his lips bare and flawless. Someday, he's going to marry this man, and Alpha will put a matching ring on him. But for the first time, Omega wonders what it would be like to see a second ring on the slender fingers of Alpha, to wear a second ring of his own.
"I'll call him. Let's go hear what he has to say."
* * *
"Terzo?" The intercom in his office landline buzzes to life, a woman's voice filling the quiet.
"Yes, Doreen?"
"It's Doris, sir," his secretary replies tiredly.
Terzo knows what her name is. He hasn't forgotten a name since grade school. But periodically pretending to forget her name tends to inspire a few days of increased work performance, as she tries to impress him enough to stick in his memory. "Of course it is. Did you need something?"
"The young man you told me to clear your schedule for has called. An Omega...?"
Terzo straightens in his chair and snatches up the phone receiver, holding it to his ear. "When is he coming?" he demands, heart in his throat at the prospect of seeing the awkward boy again. To help him reach his goals, of course. Terzo is just looking forward to having an interesting client. That's all it is.
"He'll be coming tonight, sir. After six pm. When we're closed." Doris can't quite keep the question out of her voice. In three years of working for him, she's never seen him stay late for anyone or anything, nothing coming between him and his precious schedule. Terzo has arrived at the same time, taken lunch at the same time, and left the office at the same time every day for three years. So why the sudden change?
"I don't expect you to stay an additional hour at such short notice," Terzo assures her.
"I'll stay. I assume this is a special case. It wouldn't do for him not to have the full experience when he arrives."
And this is why Terzo pays Doris so well. She's professional and sharp, and fantastic at anticipating Terzo's needs and reading his mood. "Expect a generous bonus for the overtime," Terzo says, by way of thanks, then hangs up. Six o clock. A few hours and he'll see Omega again, and then he can prove to himself that his reaction to Omega's presence was a one time thing, and that his only interest in the man is his business potential.
