River woke on the week-a-versary of his new scent… with Elliott’s presence clinging to him just as strongly as the six days prior. Encompassing, possessive and feeling more and more permanent with each passing day.

He pried himself from his covers. They had become an Elliott cocoon. As soon as he lost the scent, he needed to get them washed on a hot cycle, or risk an uncomfortable lingering within the alpha’s mark. It needed to be a quick, clean break. He snorted in his effort to hold back a laugh - it wasn’t a break up! They weren’t mates. He wasn’t claimed. It was all an act on both their parts. The smoother they could abandon their roles, the better.

Hopping into a soft, cotton jumpsuit, he avoided stepping on any of the sketch pads and canvases that littered his floor. He would clean them up when he spent the evening working on his personal projects, honest. First he had lectures, then a gym session with the rowing club…

He packed two bags: a tote to leave with him to the lecture theatre and a backpack to take to the gym afterwards. River wasn’t anything close to a gym rat, although he did find himself accidentally trying a whole roster of sports through favours and invitations he was too polite to turn down. He hoped his plain t-shirt and shorts would be fine for whatever torture Sierra had planned for them. She was definitely the ‘bad cop’ of the co-captain duo that lead the rowing club. Hawk was a teddy bear in comparison to her. He had warned River not to worry about trying to keep up with Sierra’s regime. They hadn’t asked him to join them to kill him - his words - but to hang out… and maybe catch the eye of potential recruits who were already experienced in working out.

“Having an omega will draw the eye,” he’d said with an inviting smile. “They don’t have to know you’re not a real member.”

“I’m not any kind of member,” River had reminded him.

“I don’t think anyone on the team would disagree with bestowing an honorary membership on you.”

“As long as I’m not paying a yearly fee on that, I’ll accept.”

He’d laughed.

Now both bags were leant against the front door. It was sheeting with rain outside and the likelihood of it stopping any time today was not worth checking on the weather forecast. River snatched up his brolly, slung on the backpack, tucked the tote under his armpit, and hobbled downstairs.

Luckily he checked his emails before stepping outside: both his morning lectures had been cancelled. River sighed as he trekked back up to the first floor. He pulled off his waterproof coat, dumped his bags, and resigned himself to a morning of clearing his messy workshop of a bedroom.

×

It looked… better? River tilted his head in the same manner he would when examining a piece of his art that looked a little off. It wasn’t entirely clear if he had actually made the mess worse, as the more he put away, the more stuff he pulled out in the name of ‘organising it properly.’

He’d run out of time so it would have to do until tonight. The gym awaited, and also, possibly, pain and suffering at the hands of Sierra. River tried not to think about that part as he stepped out into the downpour.

×

The building was half brick, and half window, exposing those inside growing and flexing their muscles. River wasn’t a member of any gym, but Hawk had sent him a day pass. He scanned it, dripping raindrops from his curls, and was waved through by an immaculately groomed woman at the front desk.

In the changing rooms he peeled off his soggy clothes and attempted to scrape his hair back into a high ponytail. He didn’t have quite enough length to look like the activewear models plastered on the walls.  Instead, it looked like he had an enormous paintbrush pinned to the top of his head. He twirled, looking himself over, and smiled. It would do. Time to warm up.

He took to the last treadmill in the line-up, far from anyone else in the cardio section, and worked up from a walk to a jog. The burn of movement, inside and out, had his breaths juddering every time his feet hit the sliding plastic. Why did cardio always feel so immediately awful? Then, he began to sweat. And the spread of his scent came with it.

He wouldn’t have noticed it himself - it’s his scent after all. He was nose blind to it. But he could hear the sniffs of curious noses, heard the pauses in the clanks of weights moving up and down, feel the attention on him infecting further and further out. An alpha mate filling the rubber-lined room with their alpha’s scent.

After ten minutes he hopped down and did a few stretches he could remember from hanging out with other clubs. Pulling his arms over his head, touching his toes and tucking his knees up one at a time.

A sniff alerted him to Sierra’s arrival at his back. “Something you forgot to mention, River?”

“Oh.” River turned. The dominant beta was watching him with hands on hips and feet planted wide. “Hey, Sierra.” They stepped away from the treadmills together. “Yeah, it’s new.” River snagged his water bottle from the floor and let the co-captain lead him. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologise.” Sierra moved to clap him on the back, and hesitated. River’s top was short-sleeved, but there would be no skinship if she had gone through with the friendly touch. There was no scent marking to be scared of… “I’m happy for you.” Sierra dropped her hand and adjusted the hem of her shorts with it instead. “And happy to see you! Thanks for coming.”

“Nothing to thank me for.” Happy to be invited - to be included.

“The team are mostly here - the ones that are late will get burpees - and I’ve got a whole section set up upstairs for us.”

“Sounds fun!”

Sierra grinned. She had a wicked smile - all predator. “I can guarantee you’re the only person here today who thinks that.” She took the first step up the stairs.

River smiled back. He wasn’t worried, no one expected an omega to be amazingly athletic. He only had to try.

The team waved to River when the pair got close enough. Noses crinkled, but they kept their comments to themselves. Hawk was there, soaked to the bone. Someone hadn’t thought to wear a spare set of clothes on the way here…

“Hey, River!” He ran his fingers through dripping hair.

“Hey, Hawk!” River offered him a handful of paper towel from the dispenser at the wall. “How was the swim here?”

He laughed, scrubbed his face, and laughed again. “Can’t say it warmed me up.”

Sierra gave him a weary look. “Come on, we’ve got a reason we’re here. Your vanity can wait till after your shower.”

They were set to work on a circuit that Sierra had formed in a half circle around the rowing machines. Free weights, yoga mats, and skipping ropes were the options for those not sat. After a generous demonstration, River was put on team rowing to start. He pulled at the cord in steady strokes, trying to keep his back straight.

“Is this really what it feels like on the water?” he asked the woman next to him. A dominant beta jerking her body back and forth at a dizzying tempo.

Despite her intense effort, she laughed. “No, but it’s the right muscles.”

Their three minutes was up, and they were expected to move on to the next station. River’s was the next rowing machine along. As he lowered his butt into the seat, a chemical-smelling tissue dropped into view.

“Careful - dominant sweat,” a woman behind him warned. A submissive looking out for another.

River accepted the wipe and rubbed down any areas he might touch before he did. Some dominant beta’s scent wasn’t going to overpower Elliott’s… but it might leave something on him and that would be exactly the ‘rumour fodder’ he was talking about before. No need to rock the boat.

“What’s it like?”

River glanced to his other side. Another dominant beta was watching him expectantly. Sierra announced the next round was starting in three… two… one…

The beta started rowing. “Having an alpha for a mate, I mean.”

River was slower off the starting block, pulling on the handle with slightly less enthusiasm. “I… don’t have anything to compare.” Technically it was the truth.

“Think you could convince your mate to join the club?”

“Imagine what an alpha could do for the team,” sighed a submissive beta squatting to re-tie his laces. He was supposed to be doing jump presses. Sierra gave him a hard look that could be easily translated as: hurry up.

Which part to deny first? That they were mates or that River had any sway over Elliott’s choices. He slowed his pulls. “Um-”

“Of course he could convince them, his mate’s an alpha,” argued the dominant beta holding a plank with a pink, scrunched face. “They’re the biggest softies when it comes to their subs.”

The first woman he had been beside added, “And omegas make every dom a softie.” She was now performing careful arm raises with a weight in each hand.

“Exactly. Double damage.” The beta rowing next to him turned with a cheeky grin. “That mate of yours better keep the credit card locked in a vault!”

A few others chuckled. Sierra was scanning the group with a sadistic gleam in her eye - a warning no one was noticing.

“That mate of his can afford to let him run wild with the plastic,” grunted the man in the plank.

“You know them?”

“I can take an educated guess, given there’s only one alpha I’ve ever seen on campus and he drives a car worth more than my degree.”

River refused to confirm nor deny, instead, he started rowing again.

“If you can gossip, you’re not working hard enough!” Sierra barked.

River stared at the wall ahead and waited for the conversation to divert. Something else had to be more interesting than Elliott. What about rowing? They liked rowing! Why couldn’t they talk about rowing?

The round ended and River was given a skipping rope. Next he had back-to-back arm exercises that the others did with weights. Hawk said bodyweight was enough, since River might not be used to the movements. River smiled his gratitude - he was already running out of steam.

There were no break rounds. Although the group stilled in unison as River was planking. He lifted his head, but all he could see was calves and sneakers. They had all turned in one direction and held their breaths, just for a few moments, then they returned to their exercises.

“What’s wrong?” River gasped. His elbows and ankles were on the brink of giving way.

“Uh.” Hawk, strangely lost for words.

“Your mate just came up the stairs,” the submissive beta whispered.

River collapsed to the mat. “What?” He pressed his palms to the spongy material and lifted his chest to search the space.

“He’s over on one of the benches.” Sierra nodded to a separate section. “You didn’t know he was coming?”

“No,” River murmured. He swivelled on his shorts. At the opposite end of the floor was a padded bench, and around it Elliott had gathered a handful of weights. A handful to him - a wheelbarrow-ful to River. In a compression top that left nothing to the imagination, and double-layered shorts, Elliott lowered himself to the seat. Everything about him uniform and monochromatic as always. Even his tiny towel and water bottle matched his outfit - all black. River caught a flash of colourful tattoos just above his knees, but couldn’t tell what they were. The rest of him was free of marking - a blank canvas of taut skin over thick muscle.

“Alphas can be quite protective,” Sierra offered, excusing a mate’s odd behaviour politely. Her tone turned sharp again. “Everyone keep your butts moving! I didn’t say you could stop!”

River was assigned sit-ups next. He rolled up and down with his back towards Elliott’s end of the floor. He didn’t know what to make of his arrival. Would he be expected to say something? Could he get away with pretending he wasn’t even there?

“He’s making me nervous,” hissed the dominant beta doing back rows. They were braced on the ground beside him with a lone dumbbell.

Their team mate toe-touching beside them whispered, “We’re not doing anything wrong,”

Another mumbled inside the orb of their spinning skipping rope, “I feel guilty just being near him.”

River sighed, finishing a sit-up and remaining up. “He’s not going to hurt you,” he said, refusing to mute his voice like everyone else. It wasn’t a dirty secret.

They had the grace to look sheepish. One grumbled, “That’s not what his face is saying.”

River turned his head ever-so-slowly, as though he were taking a long, relaxed look around the floor. Elliott was taking no such measures to hide his stare. And they were right, his gaze was intense. He curled an enormous weight, keeping his eyes on River, but River’s couldn’t keep from dropping to the bulge of his arm. When he was able to drag them back up, Elliott smirked. Show-off.

River huffed and turned back to the centre of the circuit circle.

The rope-skipper stumbled.

“Okay, I think it’s time for a break and weigh-ins.” Everyone dropped their task immediately. “River, you don’t need to be weighed, so would you like to… um-” Hawk gave a tiny nod in Elliott’s direction.

“Oh. Sure, I’ll have a word with him.” He turned to the group to offer an apology as well. They all assured him it was nothing, and they were fine. They were eager to be out of his eye line, though.

Hawk and Sierra led them away to be weighed. River stalked the straight line to Elliott.