Don't You Test Me

The bar Erica and Boyd had dragged Derek to for a night out had always boasted a peaceful environment and no discrimination rules that had yet to be broken. It was a calm space to relax, have a few drinks, and meet new people without having to worry about belittlement or judgment of any kind.

Figures, the one time Derek goes is the first time their streak of peaceful nights dies a loud, angry death.

"Sir, please calm down, we are handling the situation."

"No, fuck that! This smelly, pompous prick has it coming! I don't give a flying shit what kind of peaceful agreement you wanna try to come to, I'm not letting some fuckwit wanker talk to me like that and get away with it!"

"We're not going to let him get away with it, sir, I can assure you-"

"Yeah, I know what you're gonna do, you're gonna kick him out and be down with it. Well, I'm not letting him go so easily."

"Sir, how about we get you back to your friends, all rounds on the house, and we'll get him out of here."

Derek watched the exchange like it was a tennis match, as was everyone else in the bar. The manager was looking worried and flustered, trying to keep the enraged man from attacking the douche.

He wasn't doing a very good job. The guy was a spitfire, hurling curses and every insult under the sun at the frat guy standing smugly behind the manager.

"That's right," started frat douche. "Be a good little omega and go back to your alpha like the cocksucking bitch you are."

A hush fell over the bar, quieting any murmuring gossip still taking place.

The spitfire looked like he was on, well, fire. Flames danced in his eyes and the low growl that crackled from his throat sounded like splintering firewood, but felt like a firework just before it exploded.

And explode he did.

The guy surged forward, shoving past the manager and got right in frat douche's face.

"Do something. If I'm such a weak little omega bitch, you should have no problem teaching me a lesson, huh? Unless you're too scared. Is the big bad alpha scared of the little omega?"

His words seemed to have the desired effect, because the next moment the alpha was swinging a fist at him. The punch landed on his cheek, but the guy's head moved voluntarily to the side with the force, and he didn't stumble. Not even a little.

As spitfire looked slowly looked back at frat douche, Derek could see an evil smirk crawl onto his face.

"Looks like I'm getting attacked," he announced. "And, more so, seems like a hate crime to me. I'm sure there are plenty of people in here who can testify that you just attacked me. Outta put you away for a few weeks at least. Unless I know some people down at the sheriff's station who can pull some strings and accidentally keep you a bit longer, and I just might."

The douche immediately realized what had just happened, and his eyes were alight with fury.

He moved to grab spitfire, hissing, "You little shit-"

Spitfire, with seemingly no effort, twisted the guy's arm behind his back, spinning him around and keeping him pinned. When douche's other arm came back to grab at his holder's face, neck, arm, anything he could reach, spitfire released the arm pinned at the guy's back and gripped the other one instead. He spun around him, got a good hold on the jacket, and flipped the guy over his shoulder. As frat douche hit the floor with a loud thud, spitfire yanked on the arm still in his hold.

There was a sickening popping sound as the man's arm was pulled from its socket.

Even as he was shouting in pain and writhing on the ground, the alpha kicked out at the other man, earning him a grunt of pain as his heel met with a shin.