"He's listening to punk rock again." Mrs. Kirkland hissed the following morning, after her youngest son's heat had run it's course, narrowing her eyes at her elder sons.

"Mum, he's wearing headphones, you don't know what he's listening to." Dylan made the mistake of reminding her.

"Dylan, I raised three alpha children, I absolutely know what he's listening to." Her eyes narrowed further. "And if he doesn't switch back to classical by lunch, you three are doing laundry." A dainty hand push back the flyaways from her braid as she tuned out the protests of her elder children.

After sending the rowdy bunch off to unpack, she turned to her husband. "The Jones' seem nice. An ER surgeon so young!"

"He likes Arthur."

"Of course he likes Arthur. Who wouldn't like Arthur? Arthur is a cutie pie." She rolled her eyes. One second her husband was going on about finding Arthur a nice Alpha, the next every Alpha was out to steal his baby boy.

"He doesn't have to be so bloody obvious about it, he was scaring Arthur."

"Scaring Arthur! He was not scaring anybody! Arthur was nervous because you've never let him build up- you know, antibodies."

"What?"

"An immune system!"

"Against what?"

"Alphas!"

"Alph- Eliza, trust me when I say an Omega would react to an Alpha like that no matter what." He almost laughed. The silly ideas Betas had about Alphas and Omegas! No wonder Betas made horrible wingmen!

"So you admit he wasn't scaring Arthur, they were just flirting?"

And there it was, the reason Betas made great lawyers.

"Eliza, he was coming onto him! Heavily!"

"Your son is an unmated Omega! Alphas are going to come onto him! Get over it!"

"They've never come onto him before!" He protested.

"Before he's always been surrounded by a hoard of Alphas."

"A hoard?"

"You know," She rolled her eyes. "A gaggle? A murder? A fuckton?"

"Eliza, any good Alpha would be willing to impress their partner's parents."

"Oh yeah, you really impressed my parents with how far you could throw my brother."

"I apologized for that!"

Upstairs, Arthur Kirkland couldn't hear his parents discussing Alfred. He couldn't hear anything besides the punk rock he was listening to as he unpacked.

He, honestly, thought his experiences with punk had been rather underwhelming. He hadn't been allowed to go out to concerts at night for his father's fear an Alpha would seduce him and claim him, his mother hated the clothes and kept buying him sweatervests, and all in all the most punk thing he had done was sneak a beer once and listen to the music in his room.

And then spend a week in his room when he was grounded for sneaking a beer.

So, no, his punk phase wasn't exactly the most punk experience ever, but he still listened to the music when he felt bad.

And right now he was embarrassed, frustrated, angry, and unhappy.

Very bad.

He couldn't believe Dylan had told an Alpha he would be in heat. And Alfred hadn't even had the decency to pretend to be confused! He had just looked sympathetic, which was…

Actually very nice. Why had he ever been mad at Alfred? It was Dylan's fault for being such an asshole. How could anyone blame Alfred? He was so nice and smart and sweet and kind and strong and put-together and they had only spoken for five minutes, holy shit.

He was getting swoony over an Alpha he met the night before last. This was too much. He had to get over this. Alfred was leaving in three months. There was no way anything would come of this. He just needed to avoid the Alpha until he went back home.

"Arthur, we're having dinner with the Jones family tonight! Brush your hair!"

"I'm sick, Mummy, I feel like I'm going to throw up!"

"Yeah, Dylan tried that too, your hairbrush is in a box down here!"

He tossed his headphones to the bed, frowning darkly as he stomped downstairs and peeked into the box his mother was pointing to. His hairbrush was located with relative ease and he sat at the table, dragging it through the blonde while his mother talked.

"They invited us to come over around three or four, have dinner around seven-seven thirty, and stay as long as we want."

"Strict plans, aren't they?" Arthur dead panned, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the iffy, wishy-washy times they had been given.

"Mm. I was thinking we'd head over at three thirty, bring some bread and cheese and wine, and leave a bit after dinner."

"I could make scones!" He sat up abruptly, unsure why exactly he wanted to cook for the Jones family.

His mother, however, had done well in high school, and knew a bit about how Alphas and Omegas behaved when they liked someone. Her son's urge to show Alfred he could cook and care for his needs was healthy and normal, but his cooking was not.

"Not enough time, dear. We're going to leave in roughly two hours - go shower, that comb is doing nothing."

The youngest Kirkland was shooed upstairs and into the shower, scrubbing himself clean under the hot water.

Where he had nothing to do but fret about being around Alfred and in his home for four and a half hours or more.

Would everything smell like him? He was just visiting, so maybe not, but what if it did? Arthur could already smell his brothers and father in their house, and Alfred had been there at least a few days, so things would probably smell like him. His room would definitely smell like him.

But you won't see his room, he reminded himself, only to promptly start daydreaming about Alfred's room.

What color would the walls be? Probably plain white, but with marks from where posters had been hung up. That sounded right. Posters of everything, he seemed like the kind of kid to buy posters from book fairs and put them up with tacks. Brown furniture, maybe oak or maple.

And a huge bed. With lots of pillows and blankets, Arthur tended to get cold and have a hard time getting to sleep. Alfred was warm. He had felt warm when they were on the stairs. He'd be nice to lay with and cuddle with and holy shit. Again, really?

This was too much.

Arthur finished scrubbing down and exited the shower, tugging on his clothes. It was still hot in America, he figured the temperature would take some getting used to. Hopefully it's cool down soon and he could bundle himself up all the time. Presently, temperatures were skyrocketing in the morning and plummeting at night.

He couldn't help hoping Alfred would be immune to the cold and wear shorts and t-shirts for a long time.

Or just shorts.

Or nothing.

Or, wow, he really needed to stop thinking about this and get ready before he needed another shower.

/timeskip/

It had never taken Arthur an hour and a half to get dressed before, but there he was, still fretting about his outfit when his father rang the doorbell of the Jones' house.

They had a nice house. The best house in the world, because it smelled like the shirtless man who grinned and waved at him.

Arthur dropped the bread, his mom managing to snag it before it hit the floor, and hesitantly waved back.

Alfred didn't laugh, only smiled wider and headed over, shaking the the hands of the guests, but just smiling at Arthur.

"Hey, Artie, right?"

Alfred may have been an Alpha. He may have been a shirtless Alpha. He may have been a shirtless Alpha who was Arthur's primary fantasy during his heat.

But nobody (Except his mother) got to call him Artie.

"Arthur." He corrected. "Hello, Alfred. Thank you for inviting me - us, us, inviting us over."

"Aw, wait 'till you see the food! Mom had to chase me out of the kitchen to go set up out back." He admitted, grinning brightly as he lead them into the backyard.

A medium sized inground pool, surrounded by rough stones. Emerald green grass filling the large backyard. A patio with a long table on it - covered in food. Corn on the cob wrapped in foil, baked beans cooking in a crock pot, garden salad, burgers on the grill, hot dogs next to them, fries being fried, potato salad on some ice, mashed potatoes with gravy in a crock pot, cole slaw on ice, chips, pickles, tomatoes, lettuce, chili in a cooking pot, and five pies, three trays of brownies, a cake, and four buckets of ice cream in tubs of ice. Three coolers were lined up under the table, labeled "Soda" "Juice" and "Water".

Dylan, Seamus, and Rory all raced back across the street to change into swimsuits, Arthur and the adults settling down to talk.

The parents talked, Alfred chatted with Arthur, Arthur nearly melted every time he spoke, and still managed to snap at Alfred.

He didn't mean to. He honestly didn't. Alfred just said things that were so stereotypically Alpha that he would roll his eyes and a scathing comment would simply slip out.

His mother was proud, but his father and the Joneses were scandalized. Alfred could already tell what was going on.

Arthur was a Mummy's boy. He grew up emulating his mother, and her snark rubbed off on him.

Her attitude was understandable. She was a beta. But her son was an Omega, and was behaving horribly in the Joneses eyes.

How the hell was he supposed to flirt with the perfect-smelling Omega when all the lines he used on Omegas got him a raised eyebrow, snort, and sarcastic comment?

He could tell Arthur regretted it as soon as he said it. He seemed to hunch in on himself, lowering his head bashfully. So Alfred didn't understand why he kept doing it.

And it wasn't like he could pull any of the good moves with Arthur's parents right there.

"You're lucky you snagged the house when it was empty," He told the Kirklands. "It wouldn't have stayed empty long, this is a beautiful neighborhood. Big backyards, tons of forest, there's even a little park in the middle. Not too far a walk, really."

"Really?" Arthur asked, his attention still focused on the Alpha.

"Yeah. Want me to walk you down? I know a shortcut." He grinned. "Took me years to find, too, but it cut the walk in half."

Arthur glanced at his father and opened his mouth, only to have his mother answer.

"Great idea. Artie's probably bored to death of our conversations, getting some fresh air would be nice." Mrs. Kirkland smiled and Arthur rose, letting Alfred lead him out of the backyard.

Arthur could barely breathe. He was about to spend extended periods of time alone with the nicest smelling Alpha he had ever met.

And he was still worried about his clothes.

Took me two years and three tries to upload this chapter.

I am so, so sorry! It's been two years, which is unforgivable, but here's chapter five! I'm picking this up again, I promise. Thank you so much for the reviews, that's what made me pick this up again!

So.

RPs.

I would love to RP! Just PM me and we can arrange the details!

I had two RPs going when I was updating: One where I played Alfred, Alfred and Arthur worked in a hospital, and it was over Skype. One over email, where I played Arthur, in a Wild West AU. I would love to pick both these up if you're still reading!

RP with me! PM me!