Chapter Text
Kyle was the first in their grade to present, and he thought he’d done a pretty good job of adjusting to being an alpha.
Actually, he’d always been an alpha. It was in his DNA from birth – before birth, really.
Some of the kids at his school had been assessed as children. Kids with parents that had the money for pricey genetic testing. Kyle’s parents had the money too, but it was against their religion to delve into secondary sexes before coming of age.
By the time Kyle’s Bar Mitzvah had rolled around, he’d already known what he was, so he saw no point in it.
His suspicions were confirmed two weeks later, when he’d gone into rut in the middle of seventh-grade gym class. Running around the track to warm up, everything had bothered him. The sharp wind at his face. Stan, bitching about his dad. Jimmy, stuttering through an inappropriate joke from the bleachers. Cartman’s high pitched, constant whining.
Thankfully the gym teacher had recognized it too and pulled him out of class before he had a chance to follow through on his overwhelming desire to beat the shit out of all of them. His mom had picked him up from school and Kyle spent a miserable three days locked in his room, destroying furniture and eating his family out of house and home.
Besides his first rut, a pup rut his mom had called it, Kyle had never come close to giving in to his baser alpha instincts. When the other kids had started showing signs, even when Stan had presented as an alpha, Kyle had never felt any sense of territoriality or aggression.
Even towards his classmates that turned out to be omegas - who tended to present later - he felt no intense urge to dominate or posture. Something he’d been warned about the moment he presented. Young alphas weren’t known for the best restraint around omegas, but for Kyle, it had never been a problem.
Well, there had been a moment – just one time – when Cartman had shown up to school after missing an entire week, rosy-cheeked and smelling sweet as pie, an omega if there ever was one.
Too busy being shocked – Cartman was an omega? Not that Kyle had ever thought he’d present as an alpha, but an omega? Seriously? – Kyle didn’t have the wherewithal to filter his instincts, and suddenly he was standing in front of Cartman, looking down his nose to study him.
Cartman’s eyes were wide, one brown and one icy blue, looking up at Kyle in a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
And a little bit of fear.
It was the fear that startled Kyle out of his daze, forcing him to take in the way he’d crowded Cartman up against the locker, one hand fisted in his red flannel jacket.
There had been no words exchanged but after that, Kyle subconsciously tracked Cartman’s cycle. Every four months after that exchange, Kyle made himself scarce – avoiding Cartman like the plague.
Which was crazy, Kyle knew. He didn’t avoid any of the other omegas near their heat, not even Butter’s, who everyone agreed had a scent that was like a shot of pure serotonin to the brain.
But Cartman had always brought out the worst in him, and Kyle refused to be one of those asshole alphas that growled and used alpha command to get their way.
It’s not like Cartman being an omega made him any less deserving of a swift kick in the ass.
It just took away Kyle’s ability to be the one to deliver it.
Sometimes he missed being a kid.
So because of this totally-not-creepy-not-obsessive-at-all-shut-up-Stan little tick, Kyle knew that Cartman was nowhere near estrus. He’d been absent two days a month ago, just like clockwork. He knew for sure because Cartman had bitched incessantly about missing senior homecoming.
Butter’s skipped it too, out of some sort of omega solidarity.
They’d spent heats together, Kyle knew that. It wasn’t uncommon in younger omegas, and it was becoming more common – publicly common – in adult omegas too.
Kyle didn’t know if they’d done anything together, he’d never ask – though he suspected Kenny knew – but he felt weird about it either way. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t want to examine the feeling any closer.
Despite this knowledge, that Cartman’s pheromones weren’t any stronger than usual, that he wasn’t acting out of the ordinary in any way that Kyle wasn’t used to, something was up.
Cartman was standing next to Butter’s, holding his black backpack strap over one shoulder, laughing in a way that didn’t look cruel for once.
He’d lost the baby fat of childhood – a side effect of his suppressants maybe, Kyle had heard that could happen – and while he’d never be slim, his weight could now be considered voluptuous. Chubby cheeks and soft curves some considered pleasing on an omega – some – not Kyle, who had never given any thought to the attractiveness of omegas. Or barely, hardly ever really, almost never—
“Dude, are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Stan waved a hand in front of his face.
“Winter formal, Wendy’s trying to find a date for Bebe, cause she’s worried or something,” Kyle answered easily, still not looking at Stan, but rather past him, towards the end of the hallway and Butter’s locker.
“Jesus Christ dude, you’re Bebe’s date!”
That caught Kyle’s attention.
“What?” Kyle’s nose scrunched in confusion. “No I’m not.”
“Yes, you are, you just agreed!” Stan’s mouth gaped open in exasperation. “I said, ‘Kyle, Wendy is worried about Bebe since her and Clyde broke up’ and you said ‘that sucks’ and I said, ‘Wendy won’t go to the dance unless Bebe has a date,’ and you said, ‘well just find her a date’ and I said, ‘Kenny is already going with Butter’s so you should take her’ and you said, ‘yeah, sure, fine.’”
Stan finally dropped his arms from where they had been waving through the air to emphasize the back and forth.
Kyle struggled to remember any part of that conversation before he changed tactics.
“I was not paying attention to any of that Stan and you know it!”
Stan shrugged, clicking away at his phone. “Too late, I already told Wendy and she told Bebe.”
“What!” Kyle’s eyes flickered past Stan, struggling to find Cartman and Butters in the now more crowded hallway. “I don’t even like Bebe!”
Stan rolled his eyes, still looking at his phone. “You’re going as friends. She’s still hung up on Clyde anyway.” He shoved his phone into his pocket. “Besides, Bebe’s one of the hottest omegas in town. You could do a lot worse.”
Visions of soft brown hair and odd eyes cropped up in his brain, and Kyle waved his hand in front of his face as if to push them away.
He looked at Stan with every ounce of frustration he felt. “What if I wanted to take someone?”
Stan scoffed, flicking dark eyes up and down Kyle appraisingly. “Who? Since when do you like anyone, Kyle?”
Kyle felt a stab of irritation. “I could like someone!”
Above them, the bell rang, and Stan turned to head towards class. Kyle quickly shoved his bag into his locker, slamming the door and hurrying after him.
“You don’t know everything about me, Stan,” Kyle said, falling in step beside him.
“Uh, yes I do,” Stan replied, barely glancing at him. “Super bests, remember?”
Despite himself, the long-used term for their friendship filled him with warmth. Still, Stan was being ridiculous.
“That doesn’t mean I tell you every thought that pops into my head!” Kyle’s voice was now a harsh whisper, as they took their seats in AP Biology.
Stan rolled his eyes again, a habit that Kyle had hoped would pass, along with Stan’s brooding phase. “Fine, so you like someone. Just tell Bebe that there’s someone else you want to take to the dance. She’ll understand.”
Panic bloomed in Kyle’s stomach, his cheeks pinking in a way he knew clashed horribly with his hair.
His eyes shot around the room, grateful that none of their other close friends were in this class. Not that there was anyone, in particular, he’d be looking at, but you know, he didn’t want anyone to think he was acting weird. Finally he looked down at his desk, shuffling through the homework that was due.
“I didn’t say I do want to take someone, I just said, what if. You’re just making a lot of assumptions Stan!”
“Jesus Christ, Kyle,” Stan whispered back. “I’m about to take a line out of Cartman’s book and ask if you really do have sand in your vagina.”
“I don’t have a vagina!” Kyle all but shouted, looking at his best friend in outrage.
Giggling broke out around them, and Kyle flushed, sinking down in his seat.
Even Stan was snickering. “Look, I’m sorry dude, but I don’t know why you’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s just the winter formal, it’s not like it’s prom.”
Deep down, Kyle knew Stan was right. He wasn’t sure why he was making such a big deal about this. He liked Bebe. They met up once a week to study for their AP English class. She’d canceled this past week, so he knew she was pretty broken up about her relationship with Clyde ending.
He might have even asked her to the dance himself if he thought about it.
Maybe it was because Stan had snuck it up on him, gotten him to commit when he was distracted by thoughts of…other stuff.
Kyle’s mom had been on him to take a long weekend and go through rut again. It was okay to keep it at bay with a strict diet and intense exercise, but eventually, every alpha had to go through it every few years. It wasn’t like they made suppressants for it, and even omegas had to skip theirs once every quarter year or so.
Surreptitiously, Kyle lifted his nose, sniffing at the air around him. Goosebumps broke out over his skin.
He could easily track Stan, who smelled metallic like the sea, as familiar to him as his own family’s scents. It wasn’t any stronger than usual, if anything, more subdued since he’d gone through a rut not two months ago.
Beyond him, there were other familiar scents, some more pleasing than others. Alphas tended to have sharper pheromones, harsh and warning, especially to other alphas. Omegas were usually soft – beguiling and soothing in one.
The only scents that didn’t stand out were the mild beta ones, almost untraceable. It always struck Kyle as unfair that those almost without scent were the ones so gifted at reading them.
Betas could pick up emotions, just through scent. Sometimes, it was almost like Kenny was reading his mind, his ability was so strong.
There was a lot of scientific theory behind why betas had the skill but Kyle sort of preferred the story he’d grown up hearing as a kid. That in the days of hunting and gathering, when people lived as nomads in tribes, betas were the peacekeepers between aggressive alphas and passive omegas.
Of course, the only omega Kyle knew who could be considered passive was Butters, and God knew he could flip a crazy switch with the best of them.
“Mr. Broflovski, if you’d like to finish daydreaming and join the rest of the class, we’re partnering up for labs,” his teacher interrupted.
Once more the class tittered around him and Kyle blushed, grabbing his book and moving to join Stan at the lab tables.
+
“Kyle Broflovski, my hero!” Bebe’s bouncy voice came up behind Kyle, where he sat at the lunch table alone.
He looked up from his book as she sat down beside him. Her face was pale, and though she wore makeup it was far more subdued than normal, neutral colors instead of her usual glitter and swooping dark eyeliner.
“Oh yeah,” Kyle patted at his curls anxiously, still trying to tuck them behind his ears despite the fact that he’d kept them cropped close to the scalp for years now. “Should be fun!”
Bebe snorted, leaning her elbows back on the table. “You look about as excited as I am.”
Surprised, Kyle choked a bit, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
“Oh please,” Bebe waved a hand through the air. “I could care less about the dance. But Wendy is all stressed about me after, you know. And it’ll be nice to get dressed up and make that asshole eat his heart out. And I figure there’s no one safer than you.”
She smiled sweetly at Kyle.
“Safe?” Kyle wasn’t sure if he should be offended by that. “What does that mean?”
Bebe looked at him, glancing up and down. She shrugged.
“You know, nice! I mean I have other alpha friends, but you never know with some of them. Catch one whiff of the right omega and they go all feral.” She rolled her eyes.
“And I don’t do that?” Kyle's voice sounded as confused as he felt.
“Uh, no? I mean, you don’t, right? I’ve never seen it.”
Kyle looked back down at his book, thinking of all the effort he’d put into maintaining composure and integrity since presenting as an alpha. He thought about his dad, who set the bar pretty low as far as he was concerned, and his brother, who had presented earlier than anyone expected and already been caught in more than one compromising position.
Even Stan got puffed up and growly whenever an alpha he didn’t know took a second glance at Wendy.
“I mean, I guess not,” Kyle finally said. “No, you’re right. I don’t.”
Bebe smiled. “Exactly. Plus, I like you Kyle, you’re fun.”
Kyle could probably count on one hand the number of times anyone had ever called him fun and his bemused expression made that clear.
With a toss of her hair, Bebe laughed. “You are fun! In a biting, under the breath comment kind of way. In a very Kyle way.”
Kyle couldn’t help cracking a smile. “Thanks Bebe, I think you’re pretty fun too. In a bouncy way.”
Bebe shrieked with laughter, loud enough to draw the attention of other people in the cafeteria. She cupped her boobs and lifted them up for a brief second.
“I am very bouncy.”
Kyle noticed that with a smile like that her face was less wan, and the neutral makeup suited her more than he’d originally thought. It was classy and well applied. He looked across the room just in time to see Clyde’s face turn away, his attention back to Token and their other friends.
When he looked at Bebe, she was grinning, and she flashed him a quick wink. “So! Whose heart will you be breaking that night?”
Kyle inhaled sharply, very pointedly not looking at anyone but her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He kept his eyes trained on her, not looking away for a second.
“Uh huh…” She didn’t sound like she believed him. “So there’s not one person in this entire school you’d rather be taking to the dance?”
He tried, really Kyle did. But all it took was one second of weakness and Kyle’s eyes slid from Bebe’s face, glancing behind her before quickly coming back.
Face splitting into the most devilish grin, Bebe turned her head, looking to the lunch table where Butter’s always sat, today accompanied by Kenny, a couple of the goth kids, and Eric Cartman.
When she looked back at him, Kyle didn’t think he imagined the way her scent grew heavier and sweeter. He wished to God Kenny was there to interpret it for him.
“Ahhhh,” she said. “Now that is not as unexpected as you might think it is.”
Choking again, Kyle barely got the words out. “What! I don’t know—what are you even, who do you think—”
“Kyle, babe,” she put a hand on his elbow. “Unless you’re suddenly into Joy Division and cigarettes, I think we both know exactly who I’m talking about.”
For a moment, Kyle wanted to deny it. Kick up a storm and yell, just like he would have done as a kid, just like he did any time someone tried to imply that he and Cartman were friends.
But on another level, a less repressed level, he didn’t want to deny it. He wanted to confess, to finally talk about it, to the one person that he truly believed might not judge him.
It wasn’t like he could tell Stan about it!
“I don’t,” he whispered, still torn.
Bebe looked at him, and on her face, he saw not harsh judgment, or even sympathy, but something else entirely. It almost looked like understanding.
Finally, he continued his thought. “I don’t know what to do.”
Her smile was soft and the hand on his elbow squeezed gently.
“You picked a tough one Kyle, I won’t lie to you. Cartman’s not exactly…easy to handle.” She smiled. “But if anyone can do it, you can.”
Kyle swallowed, looking over at the other table again. Kenny was clearly in the middle of a story, his arm slung casually over Butter’s shoulder, who sat snuggled into his side. Everyone was hanging onto every word, even the goth kids looked something less than bored for once. Kenny leaned forward so that everyone could hear, and before Kyle’s eyes, they all broke down into laughter.
Butter’s buried his face into Kenny’s neck, shoulders trembling with giggles, while Pete tried to turn his laughter into a more acceptable smirk. Henrietta hid her laughter behind a black lace covered hand but Cartman – Cartman came alive. Head tipped back, body shaking with laughter, Kyle could see the tears at the corner of his ice colored eye from where he sat.
“I have to say, Kyle,” Bebe spoke again, waiting until Kyle looked back at her. “While some of these idiots might find the thought of you two shocking, this doesn’t surprise me in the least.”
Kyle swore his heart was beating loud enough for her to hear, and he wondered what she was picking up from his scent. “It doesn’t?”
“Nah,” she shrugged, pulling a compact and a tube of lip gloss from the purse at her side. “Like I said, you’re fun—you deserve someone who gets that. And I think Cartman does.”
“What are you talking about, Cartman hates me!” Kyle looked around quickly, to make sure no one heard his sudden outburst, but it appeared safe.
“Yeah right!” Bebe swiped shiny red gloss over her lips, and in front of his very eyes, the Bebe Stevens he knew was returning. “He’s obsessed with you.”
Kyle scoffed. “Are you kidding me? He does everything in his power to make me crazy!”
“Exactly, Kyle,” she pursed her lips in the mirror, smacking them together once before returning the compact and the mirror to her bag. “He’s fucking with you. Because deep down, you guys are a lot alike.”
One eyebrow raised, Kyle gave her a look he hoped conveyed his disbelief.
She smiled again. “Cartman is fun too.”
+