The glowing paint and stickers slapped over random surfaces wasn’t enough to give River a clear view of anything but the lanes. They were lit up with stripes to indicate where to fling the ball, and the pins shone neon green at the end. River didn't expect to knock many down, but maybe that was for the best - he needed all the light he could get.

In the murky darkness around him, small groups of people mingled and chattered over drum and bass tracks blaring through speakers hanging from the walls. With his sight and hearing distorted, his sense of smell kicked into overdrive. Stale nachos, sweaty bodies, overpowering perfume, alcohol mixed with other alcohol, feet transferring from shoe to shoe, so much beta scent swirling in the air.

Unable to pinpoint his own scent in the chaos, he pulled his focus into Elliott’s. He ducked his nose into his collar, breathing him in. Strong, steady, alpha scent filled his nose. A palate cleanser. His shoulders unclenched where he didn't realise he had been bunching them. It wasn’t ideal, but he needed to ground himself before he started to panic. He untucked his chin and tried to appear calm.

There may be a lot of false stereotypes about omegas, but scent sensory overload was completely real, and he couldn’t make a scene in front of his friends. The mysteries and myths surrounding omegas made it difficult enough for people to feel comfortable approaching, River didn’t need the additional repellent of seeming volatile.

His name was shouted into his ear. It was his turn to bowl. He tilted his chin to his chest and sucked in one more soothing breath before jumping up with a wide grin and pretending to be excited to push a ball that weighed more than him down a children’s ramp. 

Daria had lined it up for him already. River used both hands to heft the smallest available bowling ball from the line-up and clutch it to his chest. Groups from other lanes were peering over, not needing to smell him to know what he was. Submissives cooed at him, dominants smirked and winked at him. River tried not to let his embarrassment show.

The ball rolled smoothly, and slowly, and he got four pins down. His friends celebrated like he'd won a world championship. Second bowl and he got two more, same reaction.

Willow went next and got the same cheers and high-fives for getting only one pin down. River relaxed a little knowing it wasn't omega pity that had made them rally round him like that. He joined in, clapping congratulations for every throw.

As the rounds went on, the scent overload only got worse. His eyes couldn't adjust to the dark room, the shadows bumping into each other around their booth. His ears couldn't distinguish much amongst the music and the shouting and drinks being dropped and clanked.

He sunk his nose down more and more, spending more time submerged in Elliott's scent every time he let himself take a break within it. Not addictive, but necessary. When he forced his head up for too long, he started to feel sick.

They had run out of drinks, and it was his round. He gestured this to the group and backed out of their booth as Savannah earned their first strike. The girls jumped up and down together with high-pitched screams. River smiled weakly and turned away to find the bar. He felt dizzy, and unwell, all too many sensations crawling over his skin. Too much of everything all around.

A tight grip took his elbow. Unbreakable. Unshakeable. He was manoeuvred through the weakly glowing room and the pounding noise by a hand he had only before felt on his throat. EMERGENCY EXIT glowed ahead, and the door was booted open, with River yanked through by the arm. Elliott let it fall closed behind them with a slam and released River to slump back against the brick outer wall of the bowling alley. In his dazed state, he might have accidentally... ogled him.

Permanently clean-shaven, neatly combed hair, and a spotless sweater made up Elliott’s signature style. Today, he’d ditched the sweater. His arms were all the more inviting for it - lines of muscle egging River on to bury his face into the bulge of his biceps. The things those arms could do sent a chain of clenching sensations from his belly to his toes. He should have been scared. Alphas were oversized and prone to territorial aggression, and naturally gifted predators, and-

“Breathe,” Elliott ordered.

“I’m fine,” River gasped.

“I’m not. It fucking stinks in there.”

River gulped the fresh, cold air. It was hard not to look like a fish out of water, but he felt so much better already. The sickly feeling retreated back down his throat.

Once the nausea had dissipated almost completely, giggles overtook him.

Elliott watched him with a strange look on his face. “What’s funny?”

“I never imagined you to be the type to cuss,” River laughed quietly.

“Oh?” He drew in closer, shielding River against the wall. His scent was familiar instead of threatening, like an alpha's should be. “Tell me what you imagined.” A husky drawl that tickled at him.

“I don’t know.” River shrugged, still smiling, still awash with the security that Elliott’s presence pressed on him. Logically, it was very stupid to be feeling this safe so close to an alpha. The scent was soothing, though. For a few days, it had been his. “I always thought you were kinda… classy.”

A laugh barked out of the alpha. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you money doesn’t buy class?”

“You have nice manners when you’re not scent marking strangers," River offered.

“How would a stranger know that I have nice manners?”

“You don’t cause trouble,” he corrected himself. Maybe it wasn’t good manners, maybe it was just a lack of bad ones. Elliott kept to himself, he didn't bother anyone. Not until River, that was.

This delighted him for some reason. And his smile delighted River. It was bright, gleaming, and boyish; maybe he wasn’t quite so mature and sophisticated after all. River flushed and dropped his gaze.

“What?” Elliott chuckled.

“Nothing." He brought his eyes back up. They were strangers sharing a scent, nothing more. And all the fuss of the scent mark had been so he could join his friends at bowling, so he needed to return to them and make the most of it. Even if the environment made him want to chuck. "I should get back inside before they notice I ran off.”

“Get a few more breaths before you do.” Elliott’s voice had become a growl again, rough and domineering. “You think I don’t know scent overload when I see it?”

“I-” River bit his lips back into his mouth and looked away, shamed.

“It happens." He flicked his chin with one finger, drawing his gaze back up to him. An alpha, touching him so casually. "It’s dark and loud in there and when your other senses are knocked out, your nose will kick into overdrive.”

“Y-yeah.” River shrugged, pulling his head down again and hoping he couldn’t see his lips wobbling. “Thanks.” He was mortified. Most didn’t know enough about omegas to be familiar with scent sensory overload, let alone be able to recognise it in someone. In the dark. Under pounding music and squealing chatter.

“Okay,” he breathed. “I’m good now.”

Elliott didn’t budge from his place propped in front of the door. His cobalt eyes watched him, holding River in place for a little longer.

“Don’t walk through that alley on your way home,” he said, kicking off from the wall and freeing him from his stare.

River hurried through the gap. “What alley?”

“The one you arrived from.”

River pressed his shoulder into the door and tried to ignore the strange reaction in his stomach at the knowledge that he had been watched.

Elliott didn’t follow him inside.

×

Daria came last. Willow won. Savannah and River took second and third places respectively.

They shared a meal in the restaurant tacked onto the side of the building to celebrate Willow's win, and then gathered around their phones outside to work out how they were all getting home. The girls revealed a different walkway to get back to the main road that allowed River to avoid the alleyway, and they separated for their different bus stops.

He could feel eyes on him from the shadows again as he headed back towards the bus stop. A longer route to go all the way round, but worth it to avoid ending up in a bin bag. No one approached, every watcher did just that: watched. It was silly that he hoped a deep blue pair were among them, but the fantasy made him feel a little better.

Sat safely contained within the bus, the thought suddenly occurred that Elliott hadn’t made any excuse for being at the bowling alley at the same time as him. It was a Friday, a busy time for the lanes, but it didn’t seem his scene.

River rolled his eyes to the window and watched world go by. It was none of his business what a stranger was getting up to in his free time.