Chapter Text
“How are you awake right now?”
Castiel shrugged, staring dully into his cup of coffee. It was nearly cold by now. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Gabriel shuffled into the kitchen, bleary eyed. He was dressed, hair combed, cleaned up and ready, for all he still looked half asleep. Castiel couldn’t blame him. Last night they’d both set their alarms for 5:30 in the morning. A bit earlier than they were used to, to say the least.
“Why are you nervous? Not like we’re the ones with a spotlight this time,” Gabriel reminded him, yawning as he poured a bowl of cereal.
“I know, but…it will be soon. And it’s still important.”
“Don’t think about it too much.” Gabriel poured milk into his bowl, spooning Cocoa Puffs into his mouth. “Tell you what? I’ll drive, maybe you can nap on the way or something.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m not sure how much good it’ll do.”
“Eat something, would you?”
“Not hungry.”
“Don’t care.”
Castiel grimaced. But he knew his brother wouldn’t let it go, so he dumped out his room temperature coffee and found a granola bar to choke down. Like Gabriel he was already dressed, had been since he’d given up on sleeping at five o’clock. This weekend the burden wasn’t on them to impress, but that didn’t mean you wanted to show up to the Games in sweatpants. Next weekend was the Bakeoff, and after that was the Chase, what all this built up to.
Today, he had decided to keep it simple, particularly since they’d be spending the day in dusty fairgrounds. Sturdy boots, jeans, light purple shirt, and April was cool enough to warrant his trench coat. It was a go-to, regardless of the time of year, if he was honest. Gabriel teased him about it being his security blanket. At least he had the assurance of his brother dressing similarly. Jeans, boots, black shirt, green canvas jacket.
The sun wasn’t even up when they pulled out of the driveway, Castiel knowing full well he probably wouldn’t doze as his brother drove them to the outskirts of town. To the fairgrounds where the Games were being held. While nothing was scheduled to begin until eight o’clock, it was better to get there early. Not just to get good seats in the stands, but to walk around, mingle, get a look at those who would be participating.
It varied a little by country, region, but for them courting season was in April. It was spread out over three weekends, each shorter than the last. Alphas got the first and longest window, a long weekend that began Friday at sunrise and went late into Sunday. They trained for the Games long and hard, some for years in advance of them actually participating. The first two days were packed full of sporting events, sparing matches, and miscellaneous displays that an Alpha hoped might impress the Omega spectators. The third and final day was a booth day. Opportunities to display themselves however they chose, a more personal, miscellaneous way to preen for Omegas in attendance.
Next weekend would be shorter, starting bright and early Saturday morning. The Bakeoff involved just as much if not more training and preparation. While traditional Alpha displays were of a physical nature, the traditional Omega display was in terms of desserts. Granted a few would make a dish instead, if it was truly exceptional, but you were expected to provide something sweet to lure in Alphas who often fasted the day before so they could try as many offerings as they could consume. Sunday was their own booth day, to show off skills or whatever else they so chose, which Castiel had higher hopes for. Despite many long hours and an incalculable amount of wasted ingredients, he was resigned to his fate in regards to the Bakeoff.
The third weekend lasted a single day. Well, mostly. Saturday was the Chase, what everything else built up to. Sunday gave everyone who mated during said Chase a chance to register their new status and take a much-deserved break.
The idea, at least according to the history books, was to tamper the Chase a bit. To give Alphas and Omegas a chance to interact, filter out their options, see if there was a spark, before they were unleased onto Chase grounds and their instincts took over. A chance to court before Alphas started knotting and biting Omegas.
Castiel fiddled with the belt of his trench coat, staring out the window as Gabriel navigated the mostly empty streets. “Do you think it’s worth trying banana bread again? I wrote it down, I’ll make sure the bananas are overripe this time.”
“Seriously? I thought you’d given up on breads.”
“What about blueberry muffins? Those were edible, right?”
Gabriel grimaced. “You don’t want edible, Cassie. You want good.”
“No, you want delicious,” Castiel sighed. “You want a…what have you called it? Foodgasm?”
“You gatta remember there’s going to be a lot of people eating your stuff,” Gabriel pointed out. “Not everyone will like everything. That’s why you find a strength and go with it. You don’t need to be a master baker, you just need to do one thing really well.”
“I know, but…it should be special, shouldn’t it?”
“Classics are classic for a reason, Cassie. Why do you think I’m making banana nut muffins?”
“You want someone as nutty as you are,” Castiel remembered wearily. “And they’re easy. You’ll be doing enough baking this week as it is.”
“Exactly. Besides, it’d be easier to whip up something simple regularly than something complicated. Why do you think I’m not doing cheesecake? I love those things, and they can be a pain. Alphas are bad about wanting that special thing that got their attention in the first place. If I’m going to have to bake something forever, it has to be manageable, and something I can live without when I inevitably get sick of it.”
“I know, but…brownies are simple, aren’t they?”
Gabriel sighed. “Just make your apple pie.”
“How many people make pies?” he protested. “An apple pie won’t stand out. People like you avoid them for a reason.”
“I avoid pies because I have a sweet tooth,” his brother countered. “I’m making these muffins for Alphas, not myself. Otherwise I’d be cranking out fudge. They don’t have the sweet tooth we do.”
“I know, but…I don’t want to offer up a cliché. It’s supposed to be important, special.”
“Focus on your booth,” Gabriel groaned. “But if you really don’t want to make a pie…your peach cobblers are good. Let me hang out in the kitchen with you, and they’re almost as good as your apple pies.”
“You’re going to be in the kitchen enough this week as is.”
“Don’t care. This is the part where you say thank you.”
“Thank you.”
Most people didn’t believe them, when they were informed Castiel and Gabriel were twins. Fraternal twins, admittedly, but still. The only things they had in common were DNA and the fact both had presented as Omegas. They were decidedly different people, but Castiel did love his brother. While he didn’t say it much in return, Gabriel displayed his affection through different means.
Honestly Castiel wasn’t really surprised, that the kitchen was one more thing in which they were polar opposites. His brother loved cooking, he especially loved baking sweets and treats. Cakes, cookies, cupcakes, muffins, puddings, custards, fudge, candies, ice cream, he hadn’t met a treat he couldn’t master. Castiel, meanwhile, had always been inept in the kitchen, though not for a lack of trying. His most impressive failures included burning water and setting bread on fire in their microwave. Baking wasn’t much better. At this point he wasn’t even going for ‘tasty’, he was going for ‘passible’. For whatever reason pies had the highest success rate, but apple pies always came out the best. Cobblers were only slightly worse. Everything else? He was happy if he got to the taste test stage without a catastrophe.
Knowing there were others like him didn’t help. Gabriel had been earning himself a tidy nest egg since he was fifteen by baking in bulk, making things for Omegas to use for their Bakeoff offerings. It was one of those open secrets, so long as you didn’t get caught. Castiel staunchly refused, despite Gabriel’s offers. His brother had even promised he wouldn’t charge him like he did others, and while he appreciated the offer, he refused. It was the principle to him. The Bakeoff was meant to be when you offered something to Alphas that you made yourself with your own recipe, something you could recreate down the road as a mate. Not something you copped out of to impress just to be outed as a liar down the road. It felt too much like starting a potential relationship on a lie.
He was probably going to fail, epically, but he’d do it honest. At least he had something to offer with his booth. Hopefully enough to make a better impression than his cobblers would.
A part of Castiel envied Alphas, an envy that reared its head yet again as they got closer to the fairgrounds. They were athletic anyway, Alpha pups were notoriously rambunctious, energetic. Sports were an outlet for that anyway, a way to channel the extra speed and strength they were graced with without breaking furniture. Baking was meant to channel natural nesting instincts, let the inherent culinary skill they tended to have be showcased. It wasn’t a guarantee, unfortunately. Not all Alphas were athletic, and not all Omegas were apt in the kitchen. Who knew, maybe he’d find a nice klutz who wouldn’t want to share the kitchen.
Gabriel parked in a growing line of cars, joining the trickle of other people making their way to one of the entry gates. These things were more crowded than the other events as a rule, families came to cheer on the participants, coaches and trainers there to tend those under their purview. Castiel looked around at those walking in with them, hands jammed in his trench coat pockets. Some looked as though their coffee hadn’t kicked in yet, others were bouncing around, outright giddy. He took solace in seeing he wasn’t the only one who appeared nervous.
Twenty was the magic number, when you were eligible for courting month. While it wasn’t a requirement, it was strongly encouraged. It was very rare to see anyone older than twenty-five, on either side of things, though Alphas could afford to wait longer than Omegas. Unassisted heats were rougher than unassisted ruts. By thirty, the strain could be deadly. Even if they weren’t, Omegas were something of a valuable resource. Betas took up the majority of the population, a solid fifty percent no matter which part of the world you were in. Alpha and Omega percentages were a little more varied, but there were always more Alphas. As the only breed who could birth more Omegas and Alphas, there was incentive to make sure Omegas were happily mated and reproducing rather than suffering a slow, painful death as their bodies exerted themselves beyond their limits.
Castiel had presented at sixteen. He did not like having his heats alone. He did not like the notion of them getting worse. But he also knew there were far better options available. More Omega-like Omegas for one. Ones who weren’t awkward. Ones who had a better grasp of traditional Omega skills. Ones who didn’t stand a solid six feet in their socks, which from the reaction of his classmates in high school had made an Alpha’s dick feel small enough they felt compelled to pick on him. Which naturally had given leave for everyone else to also pick on him. To this day he wasn’t sure what surprised him more, how creatively cruel his fellow Omegas could be, or that he’d somehow managed to fit in one of the football team’s lockers.
He was starting to pick out familiar faces, whom he doubted even remembered how much misery they’d caused, when Gabriel jarred him from his train of thought. “Where do you want to start?”
His brother was grabbing a pair of pamphlets from one of the tables set out, passing one over to him and flipping the other open. Sure there were listings online, laying out everything going on for the full three days down to a map, but there could always be changes. These were meant to be the most up to date.
“Uh, I don’t know,” he admitted, flipping it open. “Today is mostly….sports. They’re not even sparring.” The pamphlet read like an itinerary of matches. Track and field events, basketball, football, baseball, rugby, lacrosse, volleyball, tennis, wrestling, judo, and boxing. There was a marathon that was scheduled to be the first thing to start. Things like archery, firearms, axe throwing, and knife throwing had been lobbed in with sparring, which wouldn’t be until tomorrow.
Some Alphas participated in more than one event, he knew, which depending on what that was might be easy or difficult. Others devoted the entirety of their efforts to one single thing. Granted that had the added benefit of making you appealing to opportunistic colleges or sports teams who scouted these things, but these days Alphas did two on average, in addition to the sparring.
After a bit of back and forth, the marathon’s starting line seemed as good a place to begin as any. Gabriel believed that running when there wasn’t something to run from was for the certifiably insane, but Castiel liked it. He’d eased up on the cardio after he’d been warned his knees wouldn’t be able to take it if he kept going as he had been, but he still tried to get in a run a few times a week. It had been his therapy for years, especially in high school. He’d even been good enough to land a slot on the cross-country team, along with the Betas and Alphas. His knees themselves were fine, but a lower impact exercise was recommended unless he wanted replacement surgery by thirty. It was why he’d found a gym with a pool, trying to replace running with swimming, which was proving to be more of a full body cardio option.
“What ‘cha see, Cassie?” Gabriel asked when they joined the crowing crowd flanking the starting line.
“I don’t understand.”
“This is your thing,” his brother insisted, motioning to the participating Alphas. “What do you see? Anything good?”
Castiel considered this as he took another look. “Well….some of them aren’t warming up properly.”
“Is that a thing?”
“It can be. If they aren’t doing the right stretches, or aren’t doing them properly. Rushing through some, spending too much time on others. See the one in the red sleeveless shirt? There is no real benefit to bending at that angle, not for so long, but it puts his hamstrings and glutes on display. The one in the white t-shirt is spending far too much time on his arms considering this is a leg race. And those two at the front? I think they’re trying to pull something. They’re not even paying attention to what they’re doing.”
He rambled on, which Gabriel seemed to appreciate. Castiel was as glad for the distraction as he was to feel useful. Liked being able to seriously consider the sport currently on display. Granted this was primarily a preening contest, but he hadn’t expected the notion to be taken so literally.
More people trickled out, racers and watchers alike. Castiel tried to keep his voice low, but did continue to keep his brother appraised of his observations. Even if he was unwilling to speculate on who would be the eventual winner, or who would even be in the top ten.
At eight o’clock sharp, one of the day’s referees came out to the starting line. There was a decent cluster of participants gathered for this, when he glanced around Castiel guessed it to be a quarter of Alphas in his age bracket. Some had directed their energies elsewhere, but it was a trade off if you did this, considering the time and energy commitment. A few people he recognized from the cross-country team, back in school. Generally most were joggers already, but this was favored by those who wanted to put their stamina on display. The idea being that they had stamina elsewhere, too.
There was a small stampede when that starter pistol went off, the crack not getting the chance to fade before cheers went up, seeing the racers off. As the noise died off, Castiel looked over in time to see Gabriel checking his pamphlet. Next on the roster were three simultaneous games, volleyball, baseball, and rugby, each taking place on its own field in different parts of the fairground. Of the three rugby seemed the more entertaining to the twins, so that was their next visit.
Round two consisted of lacrosse, tennis, and football. That time they rotated out, as many did, moving from one game to the other, though in their case it was more a matter of changing bleachers whenever they grew bored of the current event. Castiel did feel bad, he knew how hard most of them had worked for this, but he felt absence was less damaging to moral than yawning audience members. At least the rugby had been very entertaining, and the intensity of it had pricked up his inner Omega a bit. He had hoped it might help, triggering his instincts a bit, but they just fizzled out by the time they were on their third rotation of games on the day’s second round.
Round three faired a bit better. It was all track and field events, and by the end the cross-country runners were coming in for the finish line. He tried not to feel smug when he noticed that those who’d stretched poorly, who had clearly been more interested in catching attention, didn’t fair as well as the ones who’d taken it seriously.
There were food trucks rolling in by late morning, with concession stands scattered around. Castiel and Gabriel nibbled while they rotated their way through round two, and by round four it was getting late into the afternoon. By this point Castiel wasn’t sure if he should be more disappointed or relieved, that none had really caught his eye. Particularly when it became clear that far too many of the Alphas were more interested in preening and flexing for onlookers, doubling down on their already aggressive tendencies for that competitive edge. Beyond the entertainment value, or appreciation for how well one played their respective game, Castiel could honestly admit he saw nothing to warrant favor to anyone.
If only to occupy himself, give himself something to do, he began taking note of those who did more than one event. Round four, the last one of the day, was filled by judo, wrestling, and boxing. Most were worn out by then, but some were taking a stab at it even if they’d already done a previous event.
“That one in the black shorts has done something for every round,” Castiel noted, taking an idle sip from a styrofoam cup of coffee. “It’s showing.”
“Yeah, no, he sucks. Kudos for the effort, but he’s stretching himself way too thin,” Gabriel agreed. He was sucking on a very blue slushy. His second of the day.
“Your sasquatch will be participating in the judo matches,” Castiel commented, tone teasing.
He cracked a smile as his brother perked up, following his gaze to where those signed up for the event were gathering. Gabriel had drawn similar conclusions about just how successful this day’s batch of events would be, they’d discussed it over funnel cakes, but he had chosen a different route to keep himself entertained. He was picking out the most physically appealing candidates that displayed the least obnoxious behavior, ranking them on a scale of one to ten, one being ‘I-can-feel-my-ovaries-gagging’, ten being ‘would-fuck-in-a-heartbeat’. So far there was only a single ten, a particularly tall Alpha with jaw length hair who had been on the soccer field. Hence the nickname, ‘sasquatch’. It was far kinder than the other names Gabriel had doled out today.
“Wanna start there?”
“We can watch his matches, but I would like to see the other events as well.”
“Deal.”
These were last for a reason. They always drew attention, were reason enough to stay through the whole day. This time there was no pretense, it was direct combat against another opponent. One step below the sparring that would occur tomorrow.
“Wasn’t he on the rugby team?” Gabriel asked idly as they wandered over to the wrestling area.
Castiel followed his gaze, then made another note on the back of his pamphlet. Another for the tally. “Yes. He was the one who lifted a teammate by their shorts so they could intercept a pass.”
“Doesn’t look too banged up. Still just a six, though.”
“Too much preening,” Castiel agreed as a cocky wink was directed at a cluster of his female former classmates. It was a shame, too. The Alpha with short, dark blond hair and lovely features had done very well in his previous event. But he spent too much time playing to the onlookers, it was very much a turnoff. At least Gabriel’s sasquatch was more focused on the task at hand, hence his ten-point ranking.
They did try to keep their commentary as low as the ambient ruckus allowed, but by now it took as much of their attention as whatever event they were actually watching. However nervous Castiel had been, he was far more relaxed now. And not because it had been a long day surrounded by Alpha pheromones.
It was remarkably satisfying, seeing faces he remembered from high school defeated in the ring. In turn it was so very grating if they won. Especially if this wasn’t their first event of the day. He grudgingly nudged that cocky blond up to a seven-point ranking when he put a stop to Bartholomew’s winning streak. He deserved that much, for putting the self-important bully in his place. Though he did start to wonder about Gabriel, what with how much he was cheering for the sasquatch. Second event of the day or no, he came in first for the judo competition.
Still, he waited until they had trudged back to their car to ask, “Are you going to seek him out tomorrow?”
“Who?”
“You know who.”
“I don’t know,” Gabriel protested, turning over the engine. “Maybe. Why?”
“He was the only one you displayed real interest in.”
“For all I know his scent is horrible. I dunno about you, but I’m going to check out everyone tomorrow.”
“I am,” Castiel admitted reluctantly. Hopefully he would have plenty of groups to hide in, but not so many he couldn’t get a decent read on their scents. You had to be compatible in that, if nothing else. It wouldn’t just be the scent you’d be living with for the rest of your life, it was what you would have on your own skin once mated, to mark you as taken to potential rivals.
“No one stood out to you, huh?”
“No,” he sighed. “Not in a favorable way.”
“Maybe tomorrow. You were never the big showy display type, anyway.”
“And you are?”
“What can I say? I like a good show.”
Castiel wasn’t about to try arguing that point.
Their small house was dark when they rolled back into the garage. The one they shared, splitting rent and utility costs down the middle. It was a modest two-bedroom affair, but close to the local college where they were both enrolled, even if they’d both opted for the online route. Only Betas really attended spring semesters, summer, fall, and winter were the big ones. Oriented around the spring mating season, hence why neither were currently taking classes.
At least neither had work to worry about, could focus on their coursework. Gabriel baked as a side gig, but it was as much to turn a profit on his favorite hobby as anything else. Much like Castiel selling his honey at the occasional farmer’s market, the bulk of his proceeds simply sustaining his beloved bees. Both had landed Omega-targeted scholarships, reducing just how much they needed to draw on their respective trusts for. Each of the Novak siblings had one, with access when they reached eighteen. Not that anyone besides them knew about it. Even they didn’t until it came time to consider college. They’d grown up firmly middle class, no indication of the wealth both Chuck and Becky descended from, no indication of the wealth that came of Chuck’s writing career. They were well taken care of, never wanted for anything, but nor were there any tell-tail splurges.
Castiel was grateful for this. As was Gabirel, despite their elder brothers being a bit annoyed. As much as he hated the torments he’d endured growing up, at least he’d seen the truth early. There was no trying to decide if you were liked for yourself or your money, no trying to sort through fake smiles. It was why he was resigning himself to multiple rounds of this. Doubly so since he fully intended not to mention his trust until after he was mated, Gabriel too. Neither wanted an Alpha’s teeth near their scent glands if there was the slightest chance it was for their bank accounts.
Despite the fact he was starting to wonder if that was the only lure he had as a mate, and their elder brothers had teased him about just that, Castiel stood by his decision.
Dinner was a frozen pizza, followed by some of Gabriel’s fudge. They turned in early, even if they didn’t have to get up quite as early Saturday. The first event didn’t start until nine, but this time it would be inside. More specifically, in the community center. The sparing would be inside, in the gymnasium, where there were already plenty of stadium seats and mats could be put down. The day before, while everyone was at the sporting events, the field had been set up for assorted target events.
There was far less parking around the community center than had been at the fairgrounds. This resulted in an early wave swamping the surrounding parking lot before a growing sea of vehicles began parking in any available space that didn’t obstruct traffic. Thankfully they got there in time they didn’t have to contend with this, but it was a close thing.
“Why did you give them a thumbs down?” Castiel asked as they made their way towards the nearest entrance. “Not to say I don’t appreciate you refraining from the middle finger, but I am curious.”
“Oh I still do that too,” Gabriel assured him, grinning. “But sometimes the thumb of disappointment upsets them more.”
“Really?”
“Sure does. You should try it sometime.”
“I appreciate the offer, but no.” No matter how tempting it might be, which it truly was at times, Castiel refrained from flipping people off in traffic. Knowing his luck, he’d flip off the wrong person.
“Your loss.”
Gabriel snagged two fresh pamphlets as they made their way inside, passing one to Castiel and flipping open the other for the second day in a row. “Okay, what do we got? Looks like they put the sparring in the afternoon, wanna head outside?”
Looking over his own pamphlet, joining the stream of Omegas and assorted companions that joined them for these sorts of things, Castiel mused, “At least there’s no overlap today. We can focus on one thing at a time.”
“I’m just looking forward to seeing Alphas sling axes and knives around.”
“That is the point of this, yes.”
Even so, he was curious. Just because he knew it had as much to do with his own instincts as interest in a honed skillset didn’t diminish this. If nothing else, it promised to be more entertaining than yesterday. For him and Gabriel, anyway.
Once they’d settled in decent seats in the stands, Castiel looked over the fine print they’d been kind enough to include on their pamphlets. Namely how things would be laid out. It was moderately assuring, that there was more structure today. There was some variation, depending on numbers, but today he hoped they would stick to the strict regimen they had laid out. There were fewer participants for axe throwing, for example, which he considered a waste. There would only be a few rounds designated for it, where those who had the best scores on their first and second rounds would compete against each other. More populated events, such as those involving firearms, would have the entire lineup compete and only the one with the best results would advance after the first round. By the looks of it they had already set up stalls for those, enough for fifteen at a time, trying to get in as many as possible without overdoing it. Omegas had to see it in order to be impressed, after all.
Castiel was trying to read a downloaded book on his phone, and failing miserably, when Gabriel nudged him. He looked up in time to see Alphas in archery gear coming out onto the field, archery-specific targets being set up. Maybe he’d been reading too many fantasy novels, but he found himself interested in this one.
Then he realized a few carried bows like those he’d seen the school archery team use, but the rest held compound bows. The ones already patterned camo. The better for a hunter to blend in.
Well….provided they did so responsibly, and humanely, maybe having a hunter for a mate wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Fresh meat on occasion certainly sounded nice. More importantly, the notion of having weekends to himself because they were out crawling through brush sounded like a definite perk.
When he leaned over, mentioning this to Gabriel, his twin countered, “Yeah, but what if they want to put deer heads up on your wall or something?”
Nose wrinkling, Castiel stated, “No. Not going to happen.”
“I’m telling you, it’s gonna be an argument.”
“If they want them up in the garage or….a man cave or something, fine. But I would really rather not look at them.”
“It’s not worth the fresh meat, Cassie, trust me. Avoid those.”
Castiel sighed, but only because the event was starting, the announcer coming onto the loudspeakers. Not the best time for a debate. Besides, he wasn’t thrilled but he had to admit Gabriel was probably right about that. They’d certainly heard the complaints often enough.
Potential problems aside, he still enjoyed the archer’s display. For added entertainment value, there seemed to be mutual distaste between the competitive archers and the hunter archers. To the point bulky officials had to step in when a fight threatened to break out at one point. Gabriel, ever prepared, had taken out a bag of caramel kettle corn for them to munch while they watched it go down.
Knife throwing was up next. Castiel gave his brother a nudge, smiling at the glare this got him, when he spotted the sasquatch coming out onto the field. He was interested to notice a pink tinge to his twin’s ears as he glared, though.
Well, these events were meant to draw out their instincts. He just hadn’t considered it would work on Gabriel, not very well at any rate. He’d always taken such joy in flaunting rules, toying with anyone who qualified as a figure of authority. Which an Alpha would be should he take one, if only in certain aspects. Frankly Castiel had expected him to go a few years before selecting one, of his own volition. He himself would likely be a few years, but more for the sake of self-preservation. Just because he was curious about the Alpha side of these events, and was obligated to participate himself, didn’t mean he was willing to accept just anything. Frankly the notion of mating someone in his own class, who’d known him then, who had born witness to or even participated in his torment, didn’t sit well.
Castiel began a running tally, keeping track of which faces he remembered from yesterday he saw now. How they performed. He was far better with faces than names anyway, and it helped, gave him something to do. Helped take this somewhat seriously, which would be expected. He did want to take it seriously, if only to appreciate the time and skill being applied here, just not for the reasons expected of him.
Axe throwing came immediately after knife throwing, then there was a short break while they changed gears for firearms. This time there were two subcategories, one for pistols, one for rifles. Considering the nature of them, Castiel had to admit he appreciated differentiating between short range and long range.
Gabriel’s sasquatch was in this one, too. Many people were. Castiel counted over fifteen faces that had done one of the previous events, and this event itself took enough time he was able to try recalling them from yesterday. Some had performed better than others, of course, both today and yesterday. Sasquatch was better with short range firearms than long range, and he’d been in the top three in the knife throwing competition. A few of the lesser competitors from yesterday had impressive aim, making Castiel feel a little better, even if other familiar faces were among them. No one could be good at everything, after all. It wasn’t statistically possible.
There was a break for lunch after that. Castiel pulled earplugs from his ears as he and Gabriel stood to follow the flow of people leaving the outside stands. There were still attempts to keep Alphas separated from the Omegas at this stage, things wouldn’t be more lax until next weekend. Now they went back to a small army of food trucks, Alphas enjoying whatever fair was provided by the community center.
Gabriel insisted they get something easy to eat, and Castiel couldn’t bring himself to argue. Besides, he never passed up a chance for a nice, fat burrito. Castiel had thought they’d made good time, burritos and bottles of soda and a paper bag full of donuts hadn’t taken all that long, but there was already a decent crowd gathering. They clambered up onto metal stands, clanging with each step, dropping into what they hoped to be seats with a decent vantage point.
He was happily chewing his way through his burrito when Gabriel asked, “So, still no one to tickle your fancy?”
His mouth was full, so he just shook his head in the negative.
“Tickle your instincts?”
That time he gave a reluctant half shrug.
“Maybe this will stir something,” Gabriel mused, motioning to the thick mats coating the basketball court’s floor. “Give you something to go on before tomorrow’s meet and greet.”
Castiel chose not to comment. If nothing else, he knew he’d be avoiding classmates, favoring those who went to different schools or had come to the area after graduation. A default he’d settled on purely as a safety mechanism. At least he couldn’t be told he was leaving too many out, there had been two other high schools in the area, one public and one private, plus plenty of new transplants, and in turn people moving away. He was only excluding a quarter of the potentials, at best.
They’d eaten their burritos, and were polishing off their donuts, when the first contestants for sparing came out. Gabreil finally cut off his commentary on the pastries, licking a bit of powdered sugar from his fingers as referees came out to man the two rings marked on the mats. One on each side of the court, to allow for plenty of room. As it was there were always a fistful of bulky older Alphas on standby, to break things up if the sparing got out of hand.
It was fascinating to Castiel, the differences in philosophy. Some Alphas seemed to be treating this as another wrestling match, or boxing match, others were simply wearing street clothes, like they were walking into a spur of the moment brawl. Personally those who looked like they were walking into an MMA ring seemed to have the best idea, but what did he know?
There was no timer for these things, and minimal rules. Extra medical staff was on standby all the same, and Castiel had seen four ambulances parked outside. So long as you didn’t kill, maim, or seriously injure your opponent, you were in the clear. All you had to do was pin, knock out, push out of bounds, or otherwise get your opponent to yield.
Considering Alphas weren’t inclined to yield by nature, much less when surrounded by stands of Omega spectators, Castiel expected to see a lot of bloody and/or unconscious people carted out of those rings.
The first two rounds were over surprisingly quickly, the victors slated to continue on to other matches while the losers were booted from the roster entirely. After the second round things got lopsided, one lasting longer than the other. And on it went.
Castiel was disappointed. He’d been hoping for….something. Sure his instincts were interested, but it was only mild at best. He wanted to join the cheering, the whooping, the shouts of encouragement or cries of unfairness. He did want to, honest, but he didn’t feel compelled to. Didn’t have the urge.
After the first ten rounds he started to get worried, and started scanning what parts of the stands he could see. They fully encircled the mat-covered floor, he could see a fair bit from his position. The more he scanned, the more he felt himself relax. He wasn’t the only one not reacting much. Maybe he wasn’t crazy, or broken. No more than he already knew he was, anyway.
Gabriel’s sasquatch did well, he made it to the final bracket. A set of four rounds to determine the final victor, who would go home with a ribbon and bragging rights. Just like yesterday’s victors. No doubt they would be mounted on tomorrow’s booths, too.
“What do you think? Sasquatch or the seven pointer?”
Castiel grimaced, trying to stifle a yawn. Both had adapted dress generally associated with MMA competitions, clad in shorts and gloves and little else. He had to admit the view was nice, but by now he was annoyed with said seven-pointer. Mostly because he kept doing well. It irked him, that someone clearly cocky and who had behavioral turn-offs had come in first place in the long-distance shooting competition, second place in the axe throwing, and was now vying for yet another first-place ribbon.
“I’ve demoted him back to six points,” Castiel stated.
“For what?”
“For humility. I will be vying for your sasquatch.”
“He’s not my sasquatch,” Gabriel hissed, elbowing him.
“Do you want him to be?” Castiel countered, raising a brow.
He got an annoyed look and some grumbling, but no outright denial.
When the referee gave his whistle a short, sharp blow, the final match began.
Considering both had had to win five previous matches to get this far, Castiel had expected less….energy, less enthusiasm. But when they clashed together that first time it was with a renewed vigor, if anything they were more aggressive now than they had been previously. It was a little startling to see. Startling for him, anyway. His instincts perked right up. Of course they did, damn them.
Both came close to being shoved or outright thrown from the ring, but they managed to stay inside, barely. Both came one count away from being pinned, but each time they fought their way out of it. After a point Castiel wasn’t sure if he should be more annoyed at how long it was taking, or impressed they were so evenly matched.
In the end it was deemed a tie. Not due to it taking so long, not due to any rules being broken, but due to something Castiel was fairly certain counted as pure dumb luck. Or dumb bad luck. Whatever it was, it had resulted in both of them trying the same grappling maneuver at the same time, effectively hurling each other well out of the ring at the same time. Neither heard the whistle, the calls for the match’s end, the shouting to get off each other. In the end it took six of the older Alphas on standby to drag them apart long enough to understand the match was over.
Leaning over, as much to reduce the chances of being overheard as to make sure Gabriel could actually hear him, Castiel asked, “Are we supposed to be more impressed or is this meant to be an affront?”
“I dunno. Affront to them, probably. But I’m kinda impressed they were at it for…” he checked his watch, “almost seven minutes before it came out a tie. And they weren’t exactly fresh, either.”
“Fair point,” Castiel conceded. He stood up as most everyone else was, grimacing a little as he stretched stiff limbs as much as the confined space would allow. “Can we go by the store on the way home?”
Gabriel eyed him sidelong. “I have enough flour and sugar to last us through judgement day.”
“No, I….I would like to try peach cobbler. I require peaches.”
He didn’t hear anything, but he saw his brother’s shoulders droop as they joined the shuffle off the stands. “Fine. Cobbler it is. But get more than just peaches, I want to hedge our bets.”
It was slim pickings, half of what he got was canned or frozen, but they did get a respectable array of fruit to take home. If it helped take his mind off things, all the better. These last two days he’d been able to observe, but tomorrow he would be expected to talk to people. Interact. Something.
When they arrived the next day as Omegas were allowed into the auditorium, it was to a space arranged in dozens of booths to accommodate the entirety of the participating Alphas. Tables encircled all the walls and had been paused back-to-back, partitions standing between them and their neighbors, to form aisles. In all honesty it reminded Castiel of a science fair, or a job fair. People dressing up and showing off what they had to offer.
It was a little strange, after spending their last two days seeing all these people in athletic wear. Now most of them were in street clothes. A few were in suits, or what could be considered business casual, but Castiel was assuming they had gotten the same instructions for this segment as the Omegas. They did say you could dress up if you wanted to, but the idea was to pitch yourself in your natural state. If you didn’t wear a suit in your day to day, perhaps something more casual was best. Granted he found he didn’t like how some now wore sweatpants, but he could appreciate the authenticity they were going for.
Most of the Alphas, as best he could tell, were now in jeans. Most had paired them with graphic t-shirts, nicer button downs, hoodies, a few sports jerseys. At least it wasn’t boring.
Castiel did try to go slow, looking at each booth, what each person had to offer. What was displayed. Many had diplomas, or transcripts, or other indications as to what school they were attending, what they were studying for. Any sort of medal won yesterday was of course front and center. Some had religious items, if that was an important point in their lives, some had pictures or other tokens from someone of note, or something that might mean prospects that might be of interest. Samplings of some skill or another. Some were more creative than others.
These days there were also indications of whatever their favorite gaming system, or game, or particular corners of nerdom they favored. Castiel was interested to see how many others were into Moondore. The pictures from LARPing events were….oddly heartening.
In the end he was genuinely disappointed he couldn’t talk to any of them. Naturally those he wanted to speak with were always occupied, talking to other visitors or other Omegas. Those he didn’t were open, but he wasn’t about to risk opening such a can of worms.
He avoided Gabriel’s sasquatch out of respect, though. He was glad he did. When they touched base a few hours later, his brother was as close to gushing as he ever got. Apparently the sasquatch had a name, Sam. Naturally this meant his new designated nickname was ‘Samsquach’. He was nice, friendly in a shy sort of way, which admittedly could be written off as due to the event they were currently attending. But Gabriel had liked his scent, which was important, and they’d had a nice talk. As nice as could be had considering he was perpetually mobbed. He had a dog, whose picture had been on the table’s edge, along with yesterday’s medals. Gabriel loved them, but they hadn’t been able to get any as of yet. An Australian Sheppard that had earned the name Riot wouldn’t have been Castiel’s first choice, but Gabriel was enthralled.
“He’s pre-law, got a full ride scholarship offer from Stanford.”
“You would move out to California?” Castiel asked dubiously.
“It would just be a few years,” he protested. “Long enough for him to get his degree and get out. He wants to move back here after. Says all his family is in Kansas.”
“So, dog, career prospects, family is of import, and you like his scent,” Castiel ticked off his fingers. “I take it he is still of interest?”
“Are you kidding? He’s the fucking front runner, Cassie.”
“I’m just glad it’s no longer you simply wanting to fuck him.”
“No I still wanna do that too,” Gabriel admitted. “It’s just not the only appeal anymore.” Giving his brother a light elbow, he asked, “What about you? Talk to anybody?”
“No,” Castiel sighed.
“Couldn’t get close to anybody, huh?”
He shook his head mutely.
“What about the one you demoted back down to a six?”
At that Castiel gave an indelicate snort. “You mean the one who garnered as much interest as Sam? Hardly. I could barely see what was on his booth.”
“Can’t say I blame ‘em. No idea what his scent is like, but it looks like he’s older. Been around enough to have his own business.”
“Isn’t that still young?”
“Sounded like it was more of a family business. Might be easier to tell if you talk with him.”
“Which I won’t be doing.”
Gabriel sighed, shoving hands into his pockets. “Sure you don’t want to make a second lap? Try again after things die down? Maybe we shouldn’t have come so early today.”
Castiel hesitated, then shook his head. “No, it’s fine. If you would like to make another round you’re welcome to. I think I’ll wait in the truck.”
“Nah, I’ve seen all I want to. Come on, Cassie, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yup. Dunno about you, but I could use a drink.”
“It’s barely noon.”
“I know what I said.”