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Stiles tapped his pencil and glared down at the paper in front of him. In what world would these questions actually tell them anything about how he was going to present? What is your reaction to seeing a robbery?
Being a sheriff’s kid was going to skew him toward the de-escalation tendencies of a beta, or perhaps the protective alpha stereotypes. Science would put him at omega, most likely. He was carried by a beta mother with an omega father.
But in the end, the tests meant nothing. All that mattered was how you walked out of the center after presentation week. A round of shots to trick your body into a cycle if it would cycle and you’d come out with your secondary marker on your license.
Sure, you could wait and do it naturally, but considering the likely outcome, Stiles and his dad agreed that it would be better to go this route and know he’d be safe for his first heat.
“Are you done?” Mel smiled at him.
“Yeah,” Stiles faked a smile, “all set.”
“It’s going to be fine,” she pulled him into a hug, “it’s just a rough week then you can get medication until you mate.”
“I’m going to be a beta, Mom.”
She squeezed him tighter, “No making me cry, young man.”
“You’ll see, I’m gonna be checking back out in two days with a nice big B on my license.”
She smiled and shook her head, “we’ve been shocked a few times recently.”
Stiles nodded and took a few breaths before he let go, “We’re sure I need the shots? No options without a needle?”
Stiles took a deep breath and braced himself to enter the locker room. He still hadn’t quite adjusted to the new sense of smell yet and the room had smelled gross before.
“Look who’s back!” Greenberg called out, “Hey, hey Whittemore, you aren’t the only omega on the team anymore!”
Stiles looked behind him and then back at Greenberg.
“Man, he’s been so bitchy this week — ”
Isaac shoved Greenberg into a locker and held his head firmly against the metal, “You would think that at some point in the past week of no one agreeing with your nonsense that you would understand… no one fucking cares that Jackson is an omega.”
“But — ”
“No,” Isaac pressed harder, “the rest of us don’t give a fuck.”
Isaac smiled at Stiles, still not letting Greenberg go.
“Plus, Stiles isn’t an omega you eighth-wit.”
“Eighth wit?” Stiles asked.
“Dude, he was gone for a week, if he was a beta he’d be gone a couple of days max.”
“Well,” Isaac pulled him away from the locker with a disgusted look, “can we really say half-wit? He can’t even spot an alpha when he seems to want to lick their — ”
“Please do not finish that, mister Lahey,” Coach yelled, “or the whole team will run suicides.”
Isaac tilted his head, “might be worth it.”
“It is not worth it!” Stiles yelled, “Not worth it, Isaac, completely unnecessary.”
Isaac shrugged and shoved Greenberg onto the floor. “You take all my fun.”
“We can go bunny hunting later to make up for it, big guy.”
Isaac flashed his eyes and flipped off Stiles.
By the end of practice, Stiles was starting to think the suicides actually might have been worth it. Greenberg took every chance he could to attack Jackson. Isaac had stopped Stiles’ attempts to deck Greenberg a few times with a laugh.
“Aw, baby alpha feeling protective of his omega?” Isaac whispered as he shoved Stiles back onto the bench.
Stiles blanched and opened and closed his mouth a few times.
Isaac sat next to him with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s not, I just, my dad’s an omega, too.”
Isaac nodded, “Sure, we’ll go with that being the reason. Before you go all he-alpha over him,” Isaac leaned really close, “you might want to know that I overheard him bitching to Danny about alphas. So if you’re going to court him — ”
“I wasn’t!” Stiles cut in.
“Sure,” Isaac chuckled. He paused and looked out at the field. “I’ve been waiting for you to present, dumbass. Needed to know how to court you all fancy-like,” he looked back with a smirk. “Now that I know you’re an alpha, you need an omega.”
“I don’t need one,” Stiles chewed on his lip, “but why do you think I’d want Jackson?”
Isaac looked down at his lips and back up, “So I’m not an issue?”
Stiles snorted.
“I’ll come over after practice,” Isaac winked, “we’ll figure out how to get him to agree to date us before Thanksgiving because I do not fancy another lukewarm fast food dinner in an abandoned train car.”
“What?”
“Well, I’ve heard he moved, but still.” Isaac slid close and whispered in Stiles’ ear, “Given the choice, I’m going to spend time with my alpha, not my alpha.”
Stiles let out a soft sound and closed his eyes. “Okay, yeah.”
Stiles and Isaac carefully began their plan and it only took a week for Jackson to start glaring and eventually corner Stiles.
“What are you doing?”
“Uh,” Stiles looked around, “I don’t know, you dragged me here.”
“Don’t.” Jackson snarled. “Don’t act stupid.”
“Fine,” Stiles sighed. “Isaac and I are trying to set the stage to ask you out.”
Jackson flashed his eyes, “I’m not some prissy weak omega — ”
“Dude,” Stiles cut in, “you are absolutely a prissy fucker, but it’s not because you’re an omega.”
Jackson hissed and showed his fangs, looking off to the side with a glare.
“If you don’t want us to,” Isaac picked at his fingernails, “we can just pretend you aren’t a spoiled only child with staggeringly high standards and just claim you. Pack laws sure are fun.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Isaac tilted his head, not looking up, “We could, but it might go badly at first. I’m sure eventually you’d forgive us.”
“Isaac,” Stiles warned.
Isaac shrugged, “just saying.”
“Well, don’t.”
Isaac approached and leaned next to Stiles, leaning close and ignoring Jackson, “Come on, Stiles, don’t you want to tell him all the ways we rejected, show him the research you did. The traditional way…”
“Ah, yes, the force the omega to submit in public. Like that isn’t dehumanizing even for a lizard.”
“The three main pack ways,” Isaac leaned closer.
“Formal courtship that would risk outing the whole pack, arranged mating through the alpha that undermines the omega’s consent, and sparring that I would lose because he’s a kanima.”
Isaac looked at Jackson, “And of course, there’s the modern traditional way.”
Stiles made a face, “no. Just no. I prefer to not be gutted.”
Jackson was still glaring.
“We thought this through.”
Stiles nodded, “So if you’re rejecting us, that’s fine, we’ll stop.”
Jackson stepped back, “I’m not rejecting you.”
“So…” Stiles prompted.
Jackson sucked on his lip, “I thought it was a joke.”
“Again, I prefer to not be gutted.”
“You’ve just been so… quiet about it.”
Stiles made a face.
“That’s not you, Stilinski. You’re loud and rude and you annoyed Lydia daily with your crush.”
Stiles shrugged, “She likes pubic adoration, I still do it as her friend if you haven’t noticed. You want to be valued but not turned into a spectacle over it. You want the attention to be for you, not on you.”
Jackson turned away, “I’ll send you a sample of the red I’m wearing to the dance. I expect you to look better than you did last year.”
Stiles held in a laugh as Jackson walked away. It was the first in a long line of dates for the three of them. Jackson insisted on paying any time the places would present the check to Stiles. It was a tough balance sometimes with Jackson’s pride and old beliefs, but they made it work. It worked well enough that at the last cross-country meet, Jackson teased them with his choice to go into heat over the summer, and wanting them there.
Stiles had never run so fast in his entire time on the team.
Jackson’s room had quickly been filled with their clothes and random supplies after that, and date nights turned into curling up in the slowly building nest, their scents mingling. The closer it came, the less Isaac and Stiles wanted to leave.
Isaac shook Stiles awake one morning and motioned to Jackson, “I can smell the slick.”
Stiles took a breath and couldn’t stop the rumble in his chest, “grab my phone.”
Isaac shook his head, “already sent out the texts, and his mom and dad headed out a few minutes ago.”
“Oh,” Stiles nodded, “Okay, yeah, good.”
“Relax.”
“Nope.”
Isaac laughed, “You two idiots would die on your own.”
Stiles buried his nose in Jackson’s neck and didn’t respond. He got lost in the scent of them all mixed, a sweetness from the slick making it smell like heaven. Stiles didn’t move until Isaac forced him to, shoving a straw near his mouth.
“Nooooooo,” he whined.
Isaac pinched his nose, “no water, no knot.”
“Evil.”
“Yes, so evil. Now drink the damn water before we wake up Jackson and I make you both eat.”
Stiles sighed but took a drink. Jackson woke up in an even worse mood and refused to eat or drink until Stiles was knotted in him. The first round was fast, both of their bodies craving the safety of an early claim on each other.
“Come on, I need to smell like you too,” Jackson tugged at Isaac’s clothes, “get over here and let me — ”
“Nope,” Isaac swatted his hands away, “no blowjobs until you finish eating.”
“Technically cum has nutrients,” Stiles teased.
“I will leave you two to die.”
Stiles laughed. “Jackson, just eat because Isaac’s an asshole.”
“Pot, kettle.”
“It’s why we work,” Stiles smiled, “now come on, eat so he can get off, too, can’t you smell how desperate he is? How much he’s waiting to hold you down and fuck you? Fill you up even more? Think you’ll even be able to tell he came with how messy you already are?”
Jackson whined as Stiles pressed food to his lips.
“It’s dripping out around my knot,” Stiles looked over at Isaac, “he’s making so much slick, I bet he’d stay wet enough for the whole pack to fuck him through his next heat. He’d look so good bent over and serving the pack like that.”
Jackson clenched on Stiles’ knot.
“He likes it,” Stiles grinned, “Likes the idea of just being laid out to get fucked by whoever visited.”
“Well,” Isaac ran a finger through the slick and pressed his fingers to Jackson’s lips, “I guess we’d need to be there to make sure our little slut is only fucked by people we like.”
Jackson moaned and rolled his hips, struggling to eat quickly.
Stiles hummed, “he’d probably let us strap him over a table in the jungle and let anyone fuck him.”
“Good thing we’re here to make sure he keeps some standards.”
“Can’t have our boy all damaged,” Stiles agreed, “your turn.”
Isaac pulled Jackson off Stiles’ lap and pinned him face down on the mattress, sliding in quickly, “Oh, you were so right, he could let the whole pack fuck him. Bet he’d beg for it like the little slut he is, too. Wonder how long we could keep him stuffed full if everyone helped.”
“Oh fuck,” Jackson moaned.
“Are you really already so loose you can’t tell he is fucking you?”
“I could always fuck Stiles if you don’t enjoy this, Jackson.”
“I do, please, don’t stop.”
Isaac laughed and kissed the crook of his neck, “Don’t worry, baby, you’re such a fun toy even this sloppy.”
Jackson nodded and pressed back into the thrusts.
The rest of the heat was a mess of cum, slick, and whining any time Isaac made them take care of themselves, and it was perfect.