Four: Collar

*thanks to michelllle, sphinx2030, and Niya for your support!!*

***

The supermarket was blissfully quiet at this time of night. Wren preferred shopping late. Going in the morning or afternoon, when the store was filled with families and other patrons, talking, staring, blocking the aisles (and, inevitably, the shelf Wren needed), tended to put Wren into sensory overload.

So, he very quickly learned that the best time to go was late at night when it was mostly other singles like Wren doing their shopping. It was quieter, less aggravating, and Wren was usually able to get in and out quickly.

He went a little earlier today because he had to work tomorrow, but at eleven thirty rather than one in the morning, the store was thankfully only marginally more crowded than usual.

Wren was weighing a few oranges in the produce section when he suddenly jolted forward as something pushed him, causing him to hit the edge of the fruit stand with his hips. When Wren turned, he saw a smaller man – another omega – with dyed white-blond hair and tan skin that was so pore-less Wren wondered what kind of magic concealer he was using – if he was using one at all.

“Sorry!” the shorter man squeaked, stumbling back. “I tripped.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly – and the motion drew Wren’s attention to the lacy white collar around the omega’s throat.

Instantly Wren felt blood rushing to his cheeks, but he forced himself to nod in acknowledgement, quickly turning back to the oranges, hoping the omega didn’t notice him staring.

It wasn’t the first time Wren had seen a collared omega, but it was the first time he had ever interacted with one.

Collaring was relatively rare – like being scent-drunk, it was something that mostly happened in porn. It was usually a kinky thing. Why? Well, collars were most often used either to draw attention to the neck where you would receive a mating bite, or as a way of showing ownership, of belonging to another person. Most omegas, in relationships or not, didn’t wear them because they were risqué and a sex symbol. And even if they did wear a collar, they usually wouldn’t wear them out to mundane places like the grocery store. They might wear a collar to a club, or wear it if they were going out with their significant other.

Seeing a collared omega wasn’t something to get flustered over, necessarily, and yet Wren had always felt a little weird about the whole collaring concept. When he first learned about it from one of his friends, he found himself researching it later – and if he accidentally stumbled upon a porn video with some of the nastiest, most disrespectful sex possible, well, that was Wren’s business. He had quickly clicked off the video, but the damage was done. Yes, Wren was already twenty-three when this happened, and yes, it was his first time ever seeing porn, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that he was now traumatized by all of it and seeing a collar on this stranger’s neck was bringing up images that Wren had done his utmost to forget.

Wren began bagging his oranges, but didn’t hear any movement behind him. Had the omega left? Wren waited twenty more seconds, to be safe, and then peeked back over his shoulder.

And there the strange omega was. Still there. Staring at Wren. There was a mix of curiosity and amusement in his gaze, and when he saw Wren look back at him, a big grin came over his lips.

Wren hurriedly whipped back around, cursing himself for looking. Now the omega was going to think he was a weirdo. Worse, he’d probably seen Wren looking at his collar and thought Wren was a pervert or something.

Wren was still mentally berating himself when the omega spoke up again from behind him.

“You’re tall for an omega,” he said. “When I saw you from over there, I thought you were an alpha. That’s kinda why I bumped into you, sorry. It was on purpose.”

Wren blinked slowly, processing. Why would he bump into Wren on purpose, even if he did think Wren was an alpha? Wren turned back around, and the question must have been in his gaze, because the omega’s smile widened.

“I was trying to flirt. You know.”

Wren did not know.

The omega, paused, faltering, but after scrutinizing Wren for a moment, he seemed to come to some sort of understanding, which was great for him, but Wren was still very much at a loss here, and would like an explanation, thank you.

“Don’t worry about it,” the omega said, waving the whole thing off. “Unfortunately, while you meet my height requirements in a partner, I’m not into omegas. How tall are you, though, out of curiosity?”

Wren finally got the gist of what had happened and let himself brush it off. It actually wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken for an alpha from afar. It wasn’t just that Wren was tall. After playing baseball for years, he was also lightly muscled and lacked the softness that most omegas had. It was an easy mistake to make. But this was the first time that someone had come up and flirted with him because of it. Most everyone else got close enough to smell him, realized he wasn’t an alpha, and backed off before making a move.

“Six feet,” Wren mumbled, awkward. The other omega nodded, and despite himself, Wren’s gaze was again drawn to the collar.

It looked far more comfortable than most other collars Wren had seen. A lot of them were spiky or studded like dog collars, which Wren didn’t particularly like. But this omega’s collar looked like a soft, stretchy fabric with a lace overlay. It was the width of two fingers, and though it was probably more comfortable than most collars, Wren still thought it must be rather itchy.

Unfortunately, this time the omega definitely noticed Wren’s gaze. He beamed and tugged at the collar. “Do you like it? I had it specially made.”

Wren panicked. He thought the omega was asking him if he liked collars in general – and shook his head frantically, only realizing after how incredibly rude that was. He froze, in shock at himself, and tried to backtrack.

“I didn’t mean – I, uh. It’s pretty, I just – I – “

The omega’s smile twitched – and widened, before he burst out into laughter, doubling over at the waist. “You - hahahaha! Your face!” he giggled.

Wren was sure he was completely red at this point, and he pursed his lips, resolving to just stop talking. Forever.

“It’s okay,” the omega said after controlling his laughter. “I get it. You’re so shy. It’s cute.”

Wren’s shoulders shrunk in in shame regardless, but at least the omega wasn’t upset at him.

“I’m Beau,” the omega said, holding out a hand for Wren to shake. Wren shook it.

“…Wren.”

“So, Wren. I take it you’re not a fan of collaring, then?” Beau asked, laughter still in his voice. “That’s a shame, cause you – “

“Pardon me,” a new voice rumbled, quite close by. Wren and Beau looked over simultaneously, and Wren decided that going to the store at eleven was a no-go. Way too early. He would have to go back to one a.m. trips, because there was a lot more social interaction happening right now than he wanted to have in weeks, much less a few minutes.

Or maybe the universe was just looking to screw Wren specifically, regardless of the time. Standing a few feet away, holding his own shopping basket was Vincent, sans his usual shades and hat, allowing Wren to see what Vincent actually looked like for the first time.

Vincent looked between Wren and Beau with a strangely concerned expression, and Wren considered what this interaction would look like, from his point of view, with Wren blushing and shrinking away while Beau leaned towards him with a delighted smile.

…There may be a misunderstanding.