Fourteen: Etiquette

*thanks to bullyfanberlin, B, Niya, km300, and Yoly D for your support!*

***

Vincent and Wren agreed to meet to go over the details the next day, and Vincent drove Wren back home in awkward silence. Vincent seemed to know he’d pushed Wren a little too hard, and kept glancing at him worriedly, but Wren ignored him, fighting the urge to chew his fingernails, a stress habit he’d fought for years to shake.

When he got home, Wren did something he never thought he’d do: he called Beau. Wren needed someone to talk to about it, and he needed someone who wouldn’t lecture him about it like Will or Adam. There was a sinking feeling in Wren’s gut as he hit the call button telling him this was a bad idea, because Wren hadn’t known Beau to have a good idea in the short time he’d known him.

Beau was of course delighted to have Wren call him.

“Wren!” he greeted joyfully. “What’s up? Miss me already?”

Wren cleared his throat awkwardly. This is what making friends is all about, he told himself. Sharing things about yourself. You can do that. It’s easy…for everyone else on the planet. “Actually, I…wanted to talk. To you. About something. I need advice.”

Beau gasped and Wren could hear a few loud bangs and then the scraping of a chair across tile. Wren frowned. “…Are you alright?”

“Yes! Yes, I am. I was just excited and knocked some stuff over. You want to talk to me! I’m so happy. What happened, what do you need advice about?” Beau said eagerly.

There wasn’t really a delicate way to say it, so Wren just went for it, acutely aware of the blush staining the tops of his cheeks despite the fact that no one could see it. “Vincent asked me to enter an Entanglement with him.”

“…”

The long silence on the other side of the line wasn’t very encouraging. In fact, it went on so long that Wren thought their connection might have dropped and he pulled his phone away from his ear to check. The screen said the call was still going, so he frowned and brought the phone back to his ear.

“…Beau?”

“…I’m coming over. Where do you live?” Beau said urgently. Wren got the feeling he was restraining a squeal of utter glee.

Confused about why Beau had to come over when they could just talk on the phone, but not about to question it, Wren rattled off his address in a daze. Beau hung up with the promise that he would be there in exactly five minutes and Wren threw his phone down on the couch before going to get something to drink for him and Beau. His parents had ingrained it in him to always have beverages for a guest, a formality that he usually ignored with people like Will or Adam. If they wanted a drink, they could very well get it themselves. But given that he and Beau weren’t quite at that level of friendship, Wren still poured them both a glass of iced tea and waited.

When Beau arrived, his hair was a wild mess, sticking up like feathers all over his head. He was wearing a black and white striped long sleeve shirt, a black collar, and red skinny jeans, eyes wild with a kind of insane joy that Wren didn’t understand. He barely paused to kick his shoes off in the entryway before grabbing Wren by the arm and pulling him to the couch.

Beau was a very enthusiastic person. Wren found it a little endearing despite himself.

“Tell me everything,” he demanded. Wren did, and when he was done, Beau sank into the couch, covered his face with his hands, and squealed in pure joy.

Well, at least someone’s happy.

When Beau had calmed down from his ecstatic squirming, he popped back up, eyes shiny. “I always gagged a little at those stuffy old rituals. Like, really, your mommy has to make sure it’s okay for you to date me? But this time I just think it’s terribly romantic. He’s locking you down right away. He must really like you.”

Wren looked down at his hands folded in his lap, and tried not to make a face at that. Of course, Beau noticed anyway.

“What?” he asked. “You look like you disagree. I think he’s into you. Big time. Like, he probably already has a ring picked out. I bet he has a little notebook with all the names of your future children. Right along with a notebook detailing all the different positions he wants fuck you in - mmph!”

Wren surged forward and clamped a hand over Beau’s mouth. He was getting more and more outrageous with every word and Wren was already blushing just from the topic of conversation. Any more and he would probably spontaneously combust.

“He’s just doing it to get his family off his back,” Wren mumbled, not liking the way Beau’s eyes narrowed mischievously at him. Wren took his hand away from Beau’s mouth, a bit surprised at himself for doing that in the first place. “It’s not personal.”

Beau rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It’s extremely personal. Do you know how many single omegas are living on just this block, let alone in the whole city? If Vincent just wanted someone to fake date him for a couple months and then never see them again, there are plenty of people he could have asked. But he asked you, specifically. Didn’t you say that he was pretty much stalking you for a while there?”

Wren hadn’t said Vincent was stalking him, but he did mention to Beau how odd it was that Vincent was always the one picking him up when he ordered a taxi. Wren didn’t think it was stalking, but seeing it from an outsider’s point of view, maybe it did seem that way.

Regardless of whether it was or wasn’t, Wren didn’t think Vincent had any ill intentions towards him.

Beau continued. “That’s one hundred percent territorial alpha behavior. He’s escorting his omega home safely. If he didn’t give a shit about you, he wouldn’t have bothered following you around like that. And he tried to fight me for you. Me!”

At ‘his omega’ Wren’s blush deepened. Beau brought up some valid points, but Wren still had a hard time believing it. Vincent barely knew him. For god’s sake, Vincent confessed at the grocery store before they had even had a real conversation.

“Well, anyway,” Beau sighed, finished with his rant, “if you’re going to do this, you’ll have to prepare to meet the family and pretend to be the perfect little omega trophy wife. You’re going to need help learning the etiquette for these high society shindigs.”

Beau smiled, and Wren felt a chill deep in his soul. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Leave it to me, mon ami. ‘Etiquette’ is my middle name.”

After saying this, Beau cackled wildly, swung his feet like a little kid, grabbed up one of the glasses of iced tea on the coffee table, and tossed it back so fast a few drops dripped down his chin. Wren blinked once. Twice.

Lord help me.