Archive of Our Own

As with all biological traits, omegas existed on a spectrum. On one end, there was the rare cliché of them: wanton whores who would tremble and leak at the scent of an alpha, pathetic creatures beholden to their instincts. The more realistic, and common omegas were a normal person who might - in the throes of passion or in the company of a particularly desirable alpha - be overwhelmed by their instincts and find themselves temporarily occupying the role of a wanton omega.

And then there were omegas like Albert Wesker, who treated their designation like a mild inconvenience. Present, irritating, but not the death knell to their dignity like it was for so many others. 

He’d always handled his designation with the same sort of disdain and resignation of someone dealing with a chronic illness. It was there, and - as of right now - unchangeable, and so, he stocked his medicine cabinet with heat repressants and let it fade into the background.

The only issue was that the world wasn’t as inclined to ignore his designation. Oh, there’d been enough omega rights movements that they now held some degree of power in society, but they were still seen as not quite equal to alphas and betas. Not a day had passed without Albert experiencing disrespect related to his designation.

Working under Umbrella in a laboratory full of alphas and betas, he’d had to fight for recognition, bare his teeth and show that he was just as competent as they were. In S.T.A.R.S., he was reportedly the first omega captain they had ever appointed, something he’d overheard people whisper was a ‘diversity hire’ and ‘wouldn’t last’. 

It was grating. It put his teeth on edge. It made him want to hold them down and show them just what an omega could do.

In most cases, for the sake of his reputation, he simply couldn’t. But he had proven to more than one alpha that being subjugated and fucked wasn’t a role unique to omegas. Alpha biology didn’t make them immune to being treated the way they thought omegas should be treated. The most memorable had been one of his first lab partners, a tall, handsome man prone to peacocking, with black hair and greenish-blue eyes that had looked so very pretty when swimming with tears. He’d held the incorrect belief that all omegas had cunts. Albert had proven otherwise by making him gag on his cock.

It wasn’t first time Albert had encountered the belief that all omegas had a vagina. The media did hyperfocus on omegas with the more ‘desirable’ kind of genitals, the hermaphrodites and the omega cunts. But Albert had a cock, and he’d used it to come down that boy's throat twice and then fuck him into the laboratory desk until he moaned Albert’s name. That alpha had never quite managed to meet Albert’s gaze again after that.

There had been others, but not in some time. Opportunities to slake his thirst to subjugate alphas were few and far between while employed by the local police force. In any case, the S.T.A.R.S. was unusually accepting of having an omega leader. They were a diverse group, and they all knew acceptance of their differences was important to their cohesion. He rarely had problems with them.

The rest of the police force was a mixed bag. Some accepting, some derisive, some downright hateful, and that began to grate on Albert over the course of his employment. It ground down his tolerance to a thread. Unfortunately for Chris, he was the one to snap it with an off-handed comment about it being Albert's time of month after a disciplinary meeting. A small thing compared to the very open derision he’d faced from other alphas, but he would not be disrespected by his own subordinate. 

A lesson was in order. And, thankfully, he knew Chris would be the easiest of his men to seduce into it; he'd caught him taking lingering looks at Albert in the locker room more than once.

“Remain behind after rotation, Chris,” he said, to which Chris grimaced, clearly realising he’d been overheard.

“Captain, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know what you meant,” said Albert calmly. “You’ll remain behind.”

Chris didn’t attempt to protest any further. He nodded, his cheeks visibly red. Upon returning to his desk, he got a well-deserved chewing out by Jill, the only other omega on Alpha team (an ironic name, considering). 

Their shift ended at eleven thirty, with Bravo team taking over for the night. Once the handover to Enrico had been done, notes and observations exchanged, Albert gestured for Chris to accompany him downstairs. Their footsteps echoed as they passed the offices and headed for the parking lot. 

Chris was uncharacteristically silent. Ruminating on his own idiocy, most likely, worrying about his future with S.T.A.R.S. and the potential for disciplinary action. And he had every reason to be, though Albert certainly wasn’t thinking of traditional disciplinary measures.

They stepped outside, out into the car park, and Albert nodded to his vehicle. 

Chris looked confused. “Sir…?”

“We’re going to have a talk somewhere private,” he said, fishing out his keys and sticking them into the driver's side lock. “This is a matter I would prefer to deal with privately. Unless you would prefer an after-hours conference? I could arrange for it.”

Colour rose in Chris’ cheeks. He looked back at the RCPD, clearly horrified at the prospect of being lectured in front of the entirety of S.T.A.R.S. “Er, no. We can handle this privately.”

“Good.” Albert nodded to the passenger seat. “Get in.”

Chris’ uncertainty remained as he slid into the passenger seat, glancing back at his own vehicle, a Shelby Cobra. A vehicle Albert could barely restrain his disdain for. Such a gaudy-looking thing.

“Don’t worry,” said Albert, turning his key in the ignition. “I’ll bring you right back once we’re done.”

Chris curled his hands in his lap. “I should apologise,” he said, his head lowered. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” said Albert. “But you did.” His eyes slid to Chris, who had sunk deeper into his chair, his shoulders hitched into a tense line. “Do you see omegas as inferior, Chris?”

“No, I-” Chris bit his bottom lip. “I try not to. I grew up surrounded by those kinds of sentiments being expressed in school, but I know it’s wrong.”

“You know it’s wrong, and you still defaulted to those sentiments after being reprimanded by an omega superior?”

“Yes,” said Chris quietly. 

“Then you see the issue,” said Albert, squeezing the driving wheel, bringing them out into the street. His Umbrella-issued suite wasn’t far. “This belief you have about omegas, no matter how subconscious, must be curbed. And I will curb it for you.”

Chris had always been the most headstrong of his men, so it would be an enjoyable exercise to bring him to heel. He was such a proud, stubborn alpha, but one who would whimper just as prettily as any omega with sufficient motivation. He eyed the boy in his peripheral, his slicked-back brown hair, his blue eyes, his plush lips, and pictured all the ways he would make a mess of them. 

“Any complaints?” asked Albert, raising a thin eyebrow.

Chris looked out the window, his brow pinched and mouth a thin line. Though it was clearly difficult for him, he nodded. “No, sir.”

“Good.”

When Chris wanted to be, he could be surprisingly accommodating and obedient. Useful qualities for what was about to transpire. 

The rest of the drive proceeded in a tense silence. Albert’s accommodation had its own car park, with his own reserved parking space, which he was pleased to see hadn’t been occupied by his neighbour again (they would be first on the list of potential test subjects next time Umbrella opened up the suggestion box). He pulled into it and cut the engine, glancing over at Chris. 

“Having second thoughts?” he probed.

Chris shook his head and unbuckled his seatbelt. “So, what did you have in mind, exactly? A sensitivity training video doesn’t seem your style.”

“It isn’t,” said Albert with a fleeting smile, sliding out of his seat. “What I have in mind is decidedly more hands-on.”

Chris looked only a little wary at that. “That could mean a lot of things.”

“I assure you, you’ll be leaving the building…” He paused for effect, licking his teeth. “Almost fully intact.”

“And here I thought you didn’t have a sense of humour.”

The corner of Albert’s mouth twitched. “I don’t,” he said, without any indication of sarcasm.

He guided Chris to the elevator and invited him in with a sweep of his arm, watching him enter with his shoulders stiff with tension, betraying his unease. It wasn’t easy for any man, no matter how headstrong, to go waltzing into the spider's den. Albert stepped in after him and pressed the button for the top floor. A floor he’d requested specifically for its privacy, since the suite below him was unoccupied and would remain so for as long as Albert wanted it that way.

The elevator, like the rest of the building, was spotless - mirror walls, clean laminate flooring, and everything polished to a shine. Umbrella owned the building, so it was lavish, well-maintained, and largely occupied by its own employees. Thankfully, they all valued discretion, so even if Chris passed one, he’d be unlikely to recognise them for what they were.

The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open, unveiling a brightly lit hallway with dark, laminate floors and a total of three doors. The door to his suite, the door to the facilities across from his suite, and a door to the closet used by the cleaners. 

“This one,” he said, nodding to the second door. 

“Ritzy place,” said Chris as he followed Albert. “Didn’t know your job paid this well.”

“I had a long, healthy employment before becoming captain of the S.T.A.R.S., Chris. That paid well.” S.T.A.R.S. did not, and he would have outright refused the pitiful paycheck they did offer if Umbrella hadn't ordered him to work there. 

“Oh, right,” said Chris. “You've probably had a bunch of different jobs. Sometimes I forget how old you are.”

Albert slowly turned his head, side-eyeing Chris. “Is that meant to be a compliment?”

The colour in Chris' cheeks deepened. “Uh- yes. I mean, you’re not that old, I just- never mind.”

Albert, meanwhile, had never forgotten that Chris was in his early twenties. He carried with him a sort of audacity that Albert had only ever observed in men his age.

“I take no offence to the observation,” said Albert as he pushed open the door. “I expect a man nearing his forties does seem old to you.”

Chris rubbed his nape. “You’re aging gracefully, for what it’s worth.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

Through the doorway, they entered a small, personal gymnasium, with dumbbells and bar stations and treadmills, everything one could need to maintain peak physical form. It was important to Albert that he remained in good shape despite growing older. His job required physical discipline.

Chris looked in awe of his surroundings. His gaze swept from one end of the room to the other, taking everything in, admiring the sheer collection of equipment. All provided by Umbrella, of course. He’d specifically requested some of the equipment currently on display, like the bar stations, which he needed to maintain his flexibility. 

Albert casually began to remove his shoes, socks and vest.

“We’ll have three rounds,” he said, nodding toward a mat in the middle of the room. Typically used for pre-workout stretching, but it would be sufficient as a soft ground to slam Chris into. “I want you to show me what you’ve got, Chris.”

“Wh- huh.” Chris turned to face him, wide-eyed. “Wait, we’re sparring?”

“We’re fighting,” Albert corrected him. “If you give me anything less than your best, I will know.”

“Uh…” Chris began stripping off his own vest and shoes. “Any rules?”

Albert hummed. He probably should add some guidelines. “Avoid the face, and nothing unseemly. Otherwise, you’re free to engage as you see fit.” He approached the mat, settling on the side furthest from Chris. “Do I need to clarify what I mean by ‘unseemly’?”

“No,” said Chris quickly. “I get it. I know. I’m not about to punch my captain in the-” He cleared his throat and hurried to stand across from Albert, his stance tense and uncertain. “Well, I guess I’m ready when you are.”

Albert would have to help shake him out of that uncertainty. This wouldn’t be a proper lesson while he was that tense. 

“Ready,” Albert said, and surged forward.

One of Chris’ arms immediately came up in a block, and he simply seized it and used it to spin Chris around, pulling his arm backward and parallel with his spine, a painful hold that tore a yelp from him. But Albert didn’t maintain it; he used the momentum to throw Chris into the mat, watching him roll across the floor in a humiliating sprawl of limbs.

The tension was gone from Chris' shoulders when he got back to his feet. The boy’s pride had clearly taken as much of a beating as his body. He narrowed his eyes at Albert, recovering his fighting stance.

“Okay then.” Chris rolled his shoulders and licked his lips. “You want my best, you’ll get my best.”

It was Chris’ turn to surge forward. His fist snapped toward Albert’s stomach, only to be knocked aside when Albert threw up an arm to deflect it. He moved to drive a knee into Chris’s stomach and Chris just barely flung himself to Albert’s side before it hit. Now the boy was in one of his blind spots, a position that could decisively end a fight in seconds. But unfortunately for Chris, Umbrella had trained Albert to repel attacks from every advantage point.

Albert tilted himself to the side in anticipation of another fist, and predictably enough, there it was, flying right into the space he’d just vacated. The momentum jerked Chris forward a step, which enabled Albert to take him by the arm and elbow him hard in the ribs. The boy wheezed but didn’t fall, as expected of one of his best men. 

He wasn’t a bad fighter by any stretch of the imagination; he just wasn’t as good as Albert. He would need many more years of training before he measured up.

Albert managed to get a hand around Chris’ nape and throw him to the ground, pinning him to the mat with a knee against his mid-back. No amount of thrashing would be enough to dislodge Albert. It was a tried-and-true method of restraining perpetrators, so Chris had to know he was beaten even as he squirmed and thrashed and tried to wrench up against Albert’s knee.

Stubborn as a mule, this one. No matter. It would just make the eventual capitulation all the more satisfying. 

“Round one to me, I think,” said Albert. “I hope you’ll be a good sport about it, Chris.”

Chris’ struggles slowly began to subside. “It-” He sucked in a half-breath, which was all he could manage while Albert was grinding his chest into the floor. “It’s best out of three, right?”

“Yes.” Albert eased his grip, drawing back, allowing Chris to roll out from under him and clamber to his feet. “Ready for the next round? Or do you need time to recover?”

The question seemed to sting Chris’ ego. He grimaced, straightening and readying his stance. “I didn’t hit the floor that hard. Let's go.”

Round two began with Chris holding back, watching and waiting for Albert to make the first move. And Albert decided to oblige him, hurtling forward and attempting to sweep Chris’ legs out from under him. Chris narrowly avoided the attack by leaping back, but by the time he’d recovered his footing, Albert was already closing the gap between them. He managed to crack a fist into Chris’ stomach and watched with satisfaction as the man stumbled back and barely caught himself on a heel. 

Chris was bent over and wheezing after the blow to his stomach. It gave Albert an opening to kick his shin, dropping him to one knee - a position most wouldn’t have been able to counter from, but Chris had always been unusually resilient. He drove a fist into Albert’s gut before Albert could exploit his vulnerable position, drawing a grunt and forcing him back just long enough for Chris to regain his footing. Annoying, but Albert still had the upper hand.

They managed to maintain a dance for a time, both of them ducking and weaving away from strikes and catching any flying fists on their forearms, until Albert ended it by seizing Chris by the back of his shirt and sweeping his legs out from under him, sending him slamming into the floor. Albert held him there by kneeling on his arms, one forearm folded over his throat. 

Chris’ face was flushed now and dotted with sweat. His hair was in disarray. Albert gazed down at him and licked his lips.

“That’s two,” he said smoothly, to which Chris scowled. 

“Still got one more try,” he said as he pushed at Albert’s arm. 

Albert withdrew, freeing Chris’ throat and getting to his feet. He settled on the opposite side of the mat again, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Chris was going to have some bruises by the time he left, and not just from the fight. 

“Best make this one count,” he said, which just made Chris scowl harder. Something of a sore loser, wasn’t he? But Albert didn’t mind. He would enjoy shredding that ego.

He rolled his shoulders and let his hands fall into loose fists, waiting for Chris to make the first move. The boy stared at him, contemplating his approach, before making a lunge - no, a feint, lashing out at Albert’s chest with a punch and sweeping a leg toward Albert's feet a second before his fist struck. Albert was only able to repel one of the attacks, and he chose the leg that hurtled toward his feet. The punch ended up meeting its target, slamming into Albert's shoulder and grinding it in its socket, tearing a pained sound from Albert's throat. A good hit. Chris’ prior training was really shining through. 

He returned a fist of his own, slamming it hard into Chris’ ribcage to drive the air from his lungs. The man wasn’t even finished wheezing when he followed up with a knee to the stomach to really make him regret trying to punch Albert’s shoulder from its socket. 

“You need to have a defence plan when you perform a manoeuvre like that, Chris,” he said as he seized Chris by the shoulders and threw him bodily across the mat, watching him roll. 

To his credit, he rolled himself right back onto his feet. Impressive, given how close to collapse Chris looked. His breath came out of him in pants, a thin sheen of sweat shining on his forehead. The flushed, sweaty skin made him look terribly pretty.

Albert licked his lips. “We’ll have to have some private sessions after this. The Air Force clearly left gaps in your training.”

Chris’ face brightened at the offer. “Wait, really? You’ll train me personally?”

“I will.” He would enjoy it deeply to have the opportunity to throw Chris under him at his leisure. “But let us conclude this training session before we talk about the future.” 

Intent on ending the fight, he swung a fist, then a kick, catching Chris across the shoulder and thigh and making him shudder as he struggled to stay upright. Usually Albert would do an uppercut here, but he had - regrettably - barred damage to the head for this fight, so he simply caught Chris by the throat and threw him face-down onto the floor, pinning him with his weight. 

Chris struggled for a while before finally conceding defeat. His exhausted, trembling body slumped to the mat. While it was apparent his training had significant gaps, he had done far better against Albert than Albert had expected. 

He leaned down to murmur into Chris’ ear. “You did well,” he said, smiling when he felt the skin flush. “You’re young; you left a job that didn’t require you to learn extensive hand-to-hand, yet you put up an admirable fight. Under my tutelage, I expect you’ll become formidable.”

Chris audibly swallowed. Those alpha pheromones of his were creeping into the air, so clearly Albert wasn’t the only one who’d been aroused by their fight.

“Th-thank you, sir,” Chris stammered out.

Albert smiled. “That said...” Albert positioned his face over Chris' scent gland and inhaled. Pine forest and mint. Delectable. “I think I deserve a… victory lap, don’t you?” He ground his hips against Chris’ backside just once, just to see how he would respond. 

Chris shuddered and dropped his forehead to the mat. “I- I think so,” he said, breath faintly strained, and then attempted to turn himself, presumably expecting Albert to ride him. But Albert held him firm.

“Ah, ah.” He slid his free hand down Chris’ spine and rested it on his backside. “You aren’t going to be penetrating me. As the victor, I’m going to be doing the honours.”

“But you’re-”

“An omega?” he supplied, to which Chris flinched. “Do you think that means my cock doesn’t function?”

Chris’ eyes widened at the word cock, like he couldn’t believe his boss was capable of speaking such filth. “Well, I… they never mentioned omegas being able to do that in…”

“Of course they didn’t,” said Albert derisively. “Biology classes barely cover omegas at all, let alone the idea that we could be anything but incubators.” He rolled his hips again, pressing the bulge of his cock between Chris’ legs, grinding it there. “Clearly you require re-education.”

Chris looked back at him, his pupils dilated with arousal. While some confusion seemed to remain, dancing in the furrowed brow and pinched lips, he made no attempt to repel Albert. “Uhm, but I don’t… I don’t produce slick.”

“Nor do all omegas,” said Albert smoothly. “That’s why we have lubrication, Chris.”

He took a small white bottle of gun oil from one of his pockets and placed it on the ground, within Chris’ line of sight. 

“Now then,” he said, tightening his grip on Chris and readjusting his position so he was slotted between Chris’ legs. “Face down, push your hips up, and undo your trousers for me.”

He couldn’t see, nor feel Chris’ cock yet, but judging by the flush that ate across his skin, those commands probably made it twitch. 

With some difficulty, Chris pulled his knees up under himself to present his ass to Albert, then undid his belt and zipper, fumbling to push his pants and underwear down to his thighs. The skin presented was unblemished, just waiting for Albert’s touch.  

“Such a good, obedient alpha,” he said, and smiled when the colour on Chris’ cheeks darkened. He took the lubrication and popped the lid. “So eager to be stretched open on my cock. Are we uncovering new territory here, Chris, or have you been thinking about this all along?”

Chris swallowed. “I didn’t- I don’t-”

“Don’t lie.” He poured a generous dollop of lubrication between those pale cheeks, using two fingers to stroke it around that pretty, pink rim. “Not when I’m about to have my fingers in you. Tell me the truth. Have you thought about it?”

Chris’ shoulders hunched and he pressed his forehead against the mat again. “I… I might have… considered it once or twice.”

“You see? This ridiculous hierarchy clearly deprives us all.” He slowly pressed those two fingers past that tight ring of muscle, watching it stretch and clench around him. “Not to worry, Chris; I’m more than willing to fulfil this desire of yours to be the bitch of an omega. A better place for alphas in most cases, in fact.”

A shaky breath crawled out of Chris. His hands curled into the mat, white-knuckled and trembling as Albert twisted his fingers to spread the lubrication around the most delicate part of him. 

Albert kissed his nape. “Relax for me, Chris. You’re clenching too hard.” He needed Chris nice and loose if he was going to fuck him. He doubted the boy had ever been penetrated before, too caught up in the expectations of being an alpha.

“S-sorry,” Chris stuttered, and began to force himself to take deep breaths, slowly unwinding his fingers from the mat. 

The struggle was probably as much psychological as it was physical. Alphas were, after all, taught to be the undisputed top, the dominant, the breeder; they weren’t supposed to want something like this. And the rigid, red-tipped cock now hanging between Chris’ legs suggested he wanted it very much. This might have been the fastest an alpha had gotten hard for him.

Once the lubrication had been distributed, he didn’t stop there. He slid his fingers deeper and curled them until he located something soft and bumpy through the walls of Chris’ bowels, rubbing it deftly. The contact made Chris gasp. It was doubtful he even knew the prostate could be used for pleasure for alphas in the same way as omegas. 

“My, my,” he murmured. “Sensitive, aren’t you?” He stroked it harder, and Chris outright moaned, his hips bucking. He hadn’t even taken Albert’s cock yet and he was already so eager. 

Their scents intermingled, pine and mint making something fragrant with Albert’s earthy, dewy scent, which he'd been told was like breathing in after a rainstorm. An unusual scent for an omega, but not an unappealing one - he’d heard that enough from some of the more brazen alphas. 

He pressed his face against Chris’ nape and breathed him in, groaning softly. Delicious, like a walk in the woods. He roved his tongue over that extended neck and bit lightly, like he was going to mark him, bitch him, claim him, and Chris shivered madly, his hips bucking again, so hungry for everything Albert was offering. Chris was nice and loose now, dripping with lubrication, ready for Albert. 

His fingers slowly slid free, his hands - shakier than usual - dropping to his fastenings and peeling them open, drawing out his cock. It was a little above average and just as hard as Chris’, red-tipped and eager. He applied some lubrication to it and pressed the bulbous head to Chris’ hole. 

“Take a deep breath, and exhale when you feel pressure.”

Chris nodded and sucked in a breath. 

Albert curled his hands around Chris’ hips and held him still while he ground his cock forward, inching his way into that tight passage, taking his time. He didn’t want to stretch Chris too much, too fast. He wanted this to be good, to have the memory of being fucked by his omega boss be embedded in Chris’ mind with a deep, shameful pleasure. 

With each inch, Chris whimpered and squirmed, struggling to accommodate his size but clearly aroused by the hot stretch of it, his back arched in offering, like a wanton bitch. Truly, these designations were arbitrary. Chris took a cock just as well as any omega and looked delectable while doing it. 

His nails bit into Chris’ hips as he worked his way inside with painstaking care. Another inch, a little more, until finally the rim of Chris’ hole was stretched tight around the base of his cock. Chris was panting against the floor, looking beautifully overwhelmed. Albert didn’t move right away. He opted to give Chris time to adjust to being filled, his free hand rising to stroke the small of his back.

“How do you feel?” he asked, even if Chris’ body telegraphed his feelings perfectly.

“Just-” Chris swallowed. “It’s a lot. I-it’s good.” He turned his face slightly, glancing back at Albert. “Are you going to start moving?”

“Do you feel like you can take it?”

“Yes. Please.”

Albert leaned down so his mouth touched the back of Chris’ nape, kissing lightly as he began to move in slow, shallow thrusts. Chris immediately gasped and trembled, his hot insides clenching down on Albert. A delicious friction that made Albert moan softly against his skin. 

“Good alpha,” he murmured, feeling Chris shiver in response. “You're taking my cock so well.”

He curled both hands around Chris’ hips and began to thrust a little harder, a little deeper, testing the waters. When Chris shuddered and pressed back onto him, that was all the reassurance Albert needed to pick up the pace. He tightened his grip on Chris' hips and began to fuck him in earnest, expelling hot breaths against Chris’ neck as he thrust, leaving the skin damp. The temptation to bite Chris was overwhelming, and in the throes of pleasure, Albert’s restraint faltered - he couldn’t stop himself from snapping his jaw around Chris’ nape and digging in with his teeth. 

To his surprise, Chris didn’t whine or protest- he pressed back. 

“More,” Chris pleaded, with so much unvarnished need in his voice that there was no possibility Albert could have refused. “Please.”

Albert didn’t hesitate to give him exactly what he wanted. He bit until he felt skin break and blood vessels burst under his teeth, until he was sure the mark would heal into a scar. Not quite a mating bite - he avoided the scent gland, lest he end up tethering them together in a way neither of them was prepared for - but it was close enough to slake their mutual thirst for one. He slid his tongue over the wound after, cleaning away the smear of blood and saliva there. The hot copper was oddly palatable.

The bite seemed to make Chris weak in the knees, his legs sliding out from under him until his belly was flat on the floor. Not an issue for Albert, who simply used this new position to pound him harder, deeper, grinding Chris’ hips into the mat until he was sure they would be bruised. He angled his thrusts to bully Chris’ sweet spot, making those weak legs of his quiver even harder.

What a beautiful man Chris was, thought Albert dazedly. And what a pleasure it was to be the first man to ever wreck him like this.

When he maneuvered a hand between Chris’ spread legs to grip his cock, he was pleased to feel the bulge of a knot there. A useless, biological response to arousal. He squeezed it and was rewarded with a gasp.

“What good does this do you now?” Albert asked in a murmur, speaking against the shell of Chris’ ear. “A pointless little knot.” 

It did have one use, though: it told him Chris was close. That was all the purpose it had now, to tell him that Chris was seconds away from coming on his cock. He stroked it with rough pumps of his fist, and that only seemed to arouse Chris further. Never had an alpha ever been quite this submissive with him. Clearly Chris had been harbouring a desire for this for some time now. 

The positioning wasn’t ideal, his knuckles catching on the mat each time he stroked Chris, trapped between Chris’ belly and the floor, so he grabbed Chris by the hip and hauled him up just enough to be able to stroke him properly. With this greater freedom of movement, he was able to grind his thumb into Chris’ sensitive frenulum with every upward stroke and squeeze that useless, throbbing knot with every downward one. 

Chris let out an extended whine, and that’s when Albert knew he was teetering on the precipice. He bullied Chris’ sweet spot and increased the pace of his strokes until Chris spilled long, sticky strings of come between his thighs, his entire body trembling and curling up. He came so hard that he ended up dragging Albert into climax with him, the hot clench of his body making Albert see stars. And once Albert had filled Chris with his seed, he jerked his hips against Chris’ ass, pushing it in as deep as he could, as though seeking Chris' non-existent womb. 

An omega with a breeding kink - as the breeder. Perhaps that was something science could eventually facilitate… but until then, he was more than satisfied with simply pumping Chris to the brim with his come. 

Albert held Chris still through both their climaxes, continuing to rut into him long after he’d collapsed in a satiated heap. Only once the pleasure began to make way for fatigue did he stop and slump over Chris’ trembling back. He'd never been this exhausted and dazed after sex before. He let his forehead rest on Chris’ shoulder and exhaled heavily, his body warm and tingling. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to get up and clean himself off; he just wanted to lie somewhere soft and warm and bask in the afterglow.

After several minutes, he spoke. “Think you can move?”

Chris grunted. “Y… yeah, just… gimme a sec.”

Slowly, carefully, they untangled their limbs. Albert took Chris' hand to help him to his feet and smiled when he saw the boy’s thighs quivering. He should have sent him away at this point; after all, the purpose of this hadn’t been to get entangled… but Albert ended up inviting him into his bedroom instead, gesturing him onto his bed while he arranged some water bottles and snack bars for when they got peckish.

Chris was half-asleep by the time he returned. He crawled into bed by Chris' side and curled around him, drawing the blanket over them both. This wasn’t something he would normally do, but his omega instincts were taking over - he wanted the post-coital cuddling, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to fight that reflex. So he drew Chris tight to his chest and closed his eyes.

This wasn’t quite how he’d expected his re-education of Chris to go, but he wasn’t inclined to complain. 

When they prepared for work the following day, both of them dragging themselves out of his bed to wash and change (Albert let him borrow some clean underclothes), Chris was sheepish all the way to the car. Which was, in all honesty, a little annoying. 

“Something on your mind, Chris?” he asked, wondering if this was when the protests and excuses would start.

But Chris surprised him, which he was unusually adept at doing.

“I was just wondering if we could do that again sometime,” said Chris, fidgeting with his vest. “If it’s a one-off, that’s alright, I just, uh. If you were interested…”

Halfway through opening his car door, Albert stared over the hood at him. “You wish to do this again?”

“If you want to,” Chris said quickly. “I know it’s unprofessional and risky and maybe I shouldn’t be asking, but-”

“You’re babbling.”

“Sorry, sir.”

He should have nixed the whole thing right here, but the thought of having a consistent outlet for his desire to dominate alphas was too appealing to refuse. And to have it be Chris, of all people - well, it would have been a lie to say that didn’t play a role in his capitulation. He had thought about the boy under him long before Chris had given Albert an excuse to drag him to his gymnasium and teach him a lesson in submission and humility. 

Albert slowly pulled open his car door and slid into the driver's seat, waiting until Chris had entered and pulled on his belt before speaking again. “I have a rare, open block on Saturday mornings. It would give us more time to… explore this dynamic and discuss your new training regime.” 

Chris’ eyes widened. “Oh, right- the training," he said, clearly having forgotten. "Yeah, I can do Saturdays.”

Albert turned his attention to the ignition, twisting the key. The car roared to life. “I expect you early morning on Saturday, then. 7:00 would be ideal, so we have until noon to… indulge.”

“Alright,” said Chris, sounding breathless. “I’ll be there.”

My, he really was into this, wasn’t he? He'd seduced plenty of alphas into this, but none quite this eager.

“I should hope so," said Albert. "I wouldn’t want to have to discipline you again.”

“That just tempts me, you know,” said Chris sheepishly. 

Albert couldn’t restrain a smile. “Then I’ll see to indulging that whim too.”