Chapter Text
The sun was bright red on the horizon, looking more like a bomb, the smell of smoke acrid in the back of Faber’s nose. The bushfires were getting worse every year. This summer arsonists had set fires in Prevelly, which raced out of control on high winds, and now the smoke sat squat and heavy from Yallingup to Hamelin Bay. The skies were grey, the clouds were pyrocumulus in the distance, and Faber had escaped into Boar Gryllz for a naughty tapas dinner, because he was tired.
He was a decent forty-five-minute drive from home, because he’d have to go slower with all the kangaroos. Dr Gary had let him off work early after a stressful three days of getting the property ready in case the fire came that far south, Faber’s eyes constantly on the Department of Fire and Emergency services site, and interfacing directly with DFES on the phone, in case they had to evacuate.
After dealing with scared omegas, protective alphas, a boss pretending he wasn’t nearly as stressed as he was, and needing his Ventolin throughout the day so he could breathe without coughing constantly, Faber was ready to splurge on some stress relief.
Boar Gryllz was exactly the kind of wanky tapas bar that Margaret River – region of artisanal goods and surfers as it was – attracted in droves on the weekend. But it was a Tuesday night, it was quiet, and Faber had the bar to himself. He ordered a glass of Savage Scrumpy cider, made – of course – at a nearby cidery, one of the many. With it, he ordered a cheese platter, all local cheeses – a triple cream brie, the St Duke’s blue cheese, a sheep cheddar from Cambray, honey butter from the Jardin Estate, dried fruits from… Faber stopped reading the menu.
‘What brings you into Margs?’ the bartender said, smiling at him. A fellow beta, judging by the muted scent.
‘A long day,’ Faber said, and then he smiled weakly to head off any questions about being a tourist. ‘Driving back to Augusta after.’
‘You doing an Airbnb or something?’
‘Goodness,’ Faber said, laughing. He’d tried to avoid it and slammed straight into it. ‘I’m a local. Third generation, Augusta.’
‘Wow,’ the bartender said, laughing and holding up a hand to indicate he was backing off. ‘That’s amazing, mate. I’m only here for six months myself. I love it though. But it’s nice to head back to the city.’
‘Mm, the big smoke is very well connected.’
‘You’re way less ocker than most of the locals. I mean aside from the hoity-toity richies around the place. You’re not one of them are you?’
‘No,’ Faber said. He sipped his cider and looked at the fancy paragraph long description on the menu that basically translated to shepherd’s pie, made from exclusively local artisanal ingredients. ‘But you’re right. My father and his father before him were newscasters, and my mother is from Oxford, England. Normally I’d be driving home for a dinner of something very pedestrian, but the fires have left me…here. In the most ridiculously named food establishment on the street.’
‘Ah, no, come on,’ the bartender drawled. ‘Toastface Grillah? Egbert’s? Teddi’s Big Spoon? Squid Lips?’
‘Boar Gryllz?’ Faber said, staring at him.
‘I didn’t name it,’ the bartender said, wincing.
An alpha – a strong background scent of cloves and something earthy – sat on the stool next to him, smiling between Faber and the bartender like he knew them both. ‘I agree, the name is a travesty. Can I have whatever’s on tap?’
The bartender looked at him blankly, and Faber ducked his head and smiled to himself. This was a tourist.
‘I’m afraid you’ve come to Boar Gryllz, good Sir,’ Faber said, sotto voce, ‘a fine establishment that will have at least twenty beers and ciders on tap, including non-alcoholic options.’
‘Really?’ the alpha said. He was smaller than most alphas, but stunning. His straight dark brown hair in a stylish quiff, his medium-brown skin clear and accented with thin gold-rimmed spectacles that framed the golden eyes that were particular to only certain alphas. He wore a bright orange-red button-up short-sleeved shirt, and black pants. He looked…fashionable. ‘In that case, I’ll have whatever limited edition IPA is on tap that isn’t a dry stout.’
‘That’s…still a lot of options,’ the bartender said helplessly.
He obviously wasn’t much of a salesman.
‘He’ll have a middy of the Strata by Black Brewing,’ Faber said.
‘I’ll have that,’ the alpha said.
Faber had some of the brie on a cracker and noticed the way the alpha was looking at him.
‘I’m Caleb Crawford,’ Caleb said, holding out his hand. ‘Thanks for getting a guy settled in. An omega would never have felt comfortable enough to order a drink for me like that.’
Faber almost said something about omega stereotypes, but instead he just shook the man’s hand. It was very warm. Faber realised he was tired enough and stupid enough to be thinking very unsuitable thoughts about a complete stranger.
‘You’d be surprised what betas are comfortable doing,’ Faber said.
Like an idiot, he thought. That’s what idiots say.
‘Oh yeah?’ Caleb said. ‘So what brings you here? Are you down from Perth or…?’
‘No, no, I live nearby,’ Faber said evasively. ‘You?’
‘I have a job interview in a few days, but I wanted to get the lay of the land first, because y’know, if I get the job, I’ll be living down here for a few years.’
‘Don’t do it,’ Faber said immediately.
Caleb seemed surprised, and then took the middy of beer from the bartender and passed his card over the iPad, which beeped as it accepted his payment.
‘Really?’ Caleb said. ‘It’s beautiful down here.’
‘Everything’s far apart,’ Faber said, holding up fingers as he ticked off every issue. ‘The internet’s quite terrible, though it is markedly better than it used to be. There are fires fairly regularly in the summer now, and evacuation is painful. At some point you or a friend will have your car totalled by a kangaroo-’ The bartender nodded knowingly, and even though he was only down in Margaret River for six months, he’d clearly already heard stories. ‘-The health and mental health support is limited. It’s very expensive, because everyone thinks you’re a tourist, and you will be fleeced, even if you live local. And if you live here, you have to deal with leavers – all the teenagers graduating in the big smoke coming down here to get pissed and destroy property – and then you have about six months of tourists which bloat all the places you need to visit regularly where you need to get groceries and…live your life. Finally, for the rest of your life, almost everyone will assume you’re a tourist, unless you get to know the locals, of which some – like our good bartender here – will only be here for one or two years.’
Caleb stared in disbelief, and Faber thought his golden eyes were stunning. What a lovely shade. He absently put a cracker in his mouth and then dusted the crumbs off his shirt.
‘I mean, every place has its problems, right?’ Caleb said finally, grinning.
He had nice teeth too…
Faber tried to work out the last time he got laid. He’d never slept with an alpha before. He’d kept to betas all this time. He’d seen alpha cocks in the changerooms in high school, and he’d seen them since on the internet, and they were terrifying. Thrilling to daydream about. But terrifying.
But Caleb was a little smaller than the average alpha. Beta-sized.
And the likelihood was high that Caleb would go for his job – some engineer or accounting…thing – and Faber would never see him again, because he almost never ate at Margaret River, and he rarely needed to visit for his own needs. It was easier to go up to Busselton or Bunbury.
‘I’m having less problems with it this evening, strangely,’ Faber said, keeping up eye contact with Caleb, swallowing hard when he felt that earthy scent increase in the air around him.
‘I’ve never seen hair that shade before,’ Caleb said, leaning forwards like he was about to share something private. ‘Do you dye it?’
Faber reached up self-consciously and curled one of the waves around his finger. It wasn’t as styled as it could be, having fallen out of its normally pristine condition, after the day he’d had.
‘No,’ Faber said, and then faltered when Caleb reached out and touched it without even asking permission first. A cloud of scent around him made him feel weak, and Caleb’s fingers were in his hair. ‘There’s product in it, I’m sorry,’ Faber said.
‘Don’t be sorry for caring about your appearance,’ Caleb said, his voice deeper now. ‘I like a man who cares about fashion.’ Caleb looked down Faber’s body and grinned. ‘You obviously care.’
‘No, it’s been a terribly long day, and-’
Caleb reached out and took one of the crackers off Faber’s plate and some of the cheddar, closing his eyes briefly at the taste.
‘All the food is good here.’
‘You’re easily pleased,’ Faber said.
‘I could be,’ Caleb said, in a way that made Faber’s skin tingle. ‘So what do you do? I didn’t catch your name?’
‘Ah, no, well… it’s Faber. I’m a personal assistant and an administrative assistant.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘Sometimes,’ Faber said. ‘I’m still in training, on some things. Do you like your job?’
‘I don’t know, I think I’m going to find out. That’s if I even pass the screening. It’s intense, I hear.’
‘Mm, yes, I imagine most businesses in the south west have to screen out a lot of hopeful applicants. But you look like you’d make the cut.’
‘Do I?’ Caleb said, drinking half his beer without looking away. And then, easily, obviously, he reached out and placed his large hand on Faber’s thigh.
All right then, he wasn’t exactly beta-sized.
Faber looked down at the hand on his thigh in disbelief. Betas weren’t pushy. Not like this.
‘Am I being way too forward?’ Caleb said. ‘You see I’m only here for a few days. You’ve been so hospitable for me already. Ordering my drink like that. I can tell my scent affects you.’
‘You’re so arrogant,’ Faber laughed helplessly.
‘I’ll put that down as one of my weaknesses in my resume.’
‘Do,’ Faber said.
That hand on his thigh, squeezing rhythmically, and gracious, Faber’s cock was twitching in his trousers, and he felt a whole night of stupid decisions ahead of him, and he had work the next morning, but Dr Gary had said he could come in late.
‘I have a place,’ Caleb said, under his breath, ‘but the walls are pretty thin. It’s just a cheap apartment. Well, cheap by Margaret River standards.’
‘You can come back to mine if you like,’ Faber said.
Yes, a whole night of rather stupid decisions indeed. Did he even have condoms? No, of course he did. What was he thinking?
Caleb finished his beer, licking a smear of foam off his upper lip without thinking about it, leaving all kinds of impure thoughts in Faber’s head. He took his phone out and navigated through it, never removing his hand from Faber’s thigh. Eventually he seemed to find what he was looking for, turning his phone, showing the screen to Faber.
It was an STI panel, something he hadn’t expected and knew he should have asked for. But Faber was only 20 years old in a small coastal town and the opportunities to fuck came up rarely, especially these days. He was only a year into his job with Dr Gary, but his hours were brutal. He preferred it that way.
But as a result, his STI panel was on paper, not stored on some app apparently for the sole purpose of sharing sexually transmitted infection results. And it was from three years ago.
‘Ah,’ Faber said, realising this might be a dealbreaker for Caleb. ‘I’m- Mine’s on paper, it’s…at home. It’s old.’
Caleb smirked and drew out his wallet – goodness, even that was pretty, a lovely bright blue leather and monogrammed – and flipped it open. He moved his thumb slightly, so that it pointed out the top of a condom.
‘We’ll be just fine, sweet thing,’ Caleb said.
‘I see,’ Faber choked out, awkwardness ruining his ability to flirt. He turned and drank his cider, and Caleb’s hand slid towards his inner thigh, resting there hot and bright, like an emergency flare.
Was it uncouth to say that he'd always wanted to know what an alpha cock felt like? Yes. Yes! Of course it was. He couldn’t say that. It was objectification…wasn’t it?
Faber was feeling a mite objectified himself, and he couldn’t say he minded. Caleb watched him hungrily, and Faber knew they were a decent drive from home.
‘It’s only,’ Faber said, finishing the cider, ‘I’m in Augusta. Not Margs. It’s…a drive.’
‘All right,’ Caleb said. ‘I take it I can’t Uber back?’
Faber burst into laughter. ‘Uber? Here? Maybe in a few years, but ah, no, I’ll drive you back tonight, if you like.’
‘Or tomorrow morning. You might need to rest up after I’m done with you.’
A few perfunctory pats on Faber’s inner thigh, and then Caleb slid his hand away and proceeded to demolish about half the cheese and dried fruit on Faber’s plate.
Faber had been dealing with alphas all his life, polite ones, rude ones, empathetic ones, and of course the ones that were unfortunate blights upon humanity. His parents were alphas, his grandparents were alphas, and he’d gone to a mixed beta-alpha academy. At the school, there’d been one peak alpha, and that’s who Caleb reminded him of. He was so easily confident, and Faber found the thrall inescapable, it was like what happened when he fell into Dr Gary’s orbit. He simply didn’t want to leave once he was there.
As they headed out of Boar Gryllz – the bartender winking at Faber when Caleb’s back was turned – Faber felt breathless with the foolishness of what he was doing. Taking a stranger back to his home. He normally didn’t tell anyone where he lived. He was private.
Apparently he was desperate too.
When he was in high school, he’d come to envy omegas and the fact that they were expected to pair with alphas. Betas were the majority of the population – the vast majority – and they were expected to pair off with each other. They didn’t have to deal with heats, they didn’t have to deal with the even rarer phenomenon of ruts. They didn’t have exacerbated vulnerabilities and sometimes Faber had talked with his fellow beta friends about how the whole world seemed to fold itself into a shape that fit omegas and alphas because they were so damned inconvenient.
But when he’d discovered masturbation, he’d soon after learned what it looked like when an omega took an alpha knot, and it left Faber angry and frustrated that he wouldn’t get to experience the same. And when he looked for videos of betas with alphas, they were almost impossible to find. He could find videos of betas topping alphas, betas topping omegas, and betas being topped by omegas – well, a whole two – but it just seemed like alphas weren’t that interested in topping betas in the first place.
Why would they? They had a perfect match for them in omegas, who produced their own lubricant, their own tantalising scents, who could be claimed, who were literally made to be a partner to an alpha and no one else. Faber would never measure up.
It was mortifying to have omega envy, and he never told a soul. His family would have disowned him, but they weren’t around anymore, and Caleb was beautiful, and Caleb was interested.
Faber wondered if he should point out that he couldn’t make slick, they’d need lubricant. Or maybe Caleb wasn’t even going to have sex with him that way.
But that was what Faber wanted.
They got into Faber’s beat up old car. The body had seen better days, but the chassis was solid, and the engine handled all the driving just fine.
Caleb looked around at the grimy sky as he got into the passenger seat. He reached for the seatbelt, then grabbed Faber by the shirt, twisting the fabric in his fist until Faber could feel the tension across his back, shoulders, even his arms.
‘Oh, but I haven’t brushed my t-’
Caleb pulled Faber close while leaning in, and his mouth tasted of beer and cheese, and Faber didn’t even care. Teeth scraped against his bottom lip, then bit, and then a tongue licked over his mouth, possessive and hungry. Faber’s hand slipped from the keys in the ignition, and he leaned in, one of his hands finding Caleb’s muscular thigh through his black trousers and digging his fingers in.
A low laugh against his mouth, and Caleb pressed little pecks to the corner of Faber’s lips, which were dizzyingly sweet after that kiss.
‘I’m going to enjoy you,’ Caleb said.
Faber blinked at him, dazed. ‘You… I- I am a beta.’
‘Oh, I know,’ Caleb said, dragging his fingertips along the underside of Faber’s neck. Faber shuddered. He hadn’t known he was sensitive there until that moment.
‘So that’s not…a problem, then?’ Faber said.
‘It’s not going to be a problem for me,’ Caleb said, and then he grinned and settled in his seat, putting on the seatbelt. ‘Might be a lot for you though.’
‘Right,’ Faber said. He cleared his throat, put on his seatbelt, and looked over at Caleb one more time before he turned on the engine and pulled out into the busy street. As they passed the tourists and probably a few locals, heading towards Caves Road, Faber tried to get his breathing to calm down.
Caleb chose that moment to put his hand back on Faber’s thigh.
Oh, goodness, he’d never been happier to make such a spectacularly stupid decision.