Chapter Text
Stede wanted nothing more than to be alone. But on a ship like this, that simply wasn't an option.
Antoinette was giggling somewhere off to the side, and he had a panicked feeling that she was laughing at him. He'd been distracted and missed the joke, missed whatever cue he was supposed to have reacted to, and he could feel that his alpha’s grip on his arm had grown tighter. Because if they were laughing at Stede, then they were laughing at him too.
“My apologies,” he offered up, mentally scrambling backwards through the conversation and trying to figure out what he’d missed. There was the bit about the latest lace patterns, the bit about Paris in the summer, and then something about hair. Or heads? Skulls sounded right, but that was a bizarre thing for Antoinette to be talking about. Especially considering most of these people were wearing thick enough wigs that he doubted one could even reach their skulls.
No, he still had no idea what to say. Even if she had been talking about skulls, he had absolutely no idea. He offered up an attempt at a charming smile anyway, and knew it had fallen flat when she and Gabriel just exchanged looks again.
Ricky’s grip on his arm was tight enough now to hurt.
He laughed, light and false and completely opposite the tension that Stede could feel in his frame. “My omega seems to have gotten into the wine a bit too early, I think. You know how omegas are, no tolerance whatsoever.”
His tolerance was fine, but he didn’t argue. And he didn’t argue when Ricky tugged on his arm and led him away, either.
Stede really didn’t have a good excuse for his distraction, and scrambled to come up with a reason that wouldn’t leave his alpha furious at him, because he knew that the real reason would.
The ship was crowded. All the scents and emotions flying around were distracting and heavy, and felt like they were crowding around him and clouding his head. Even when Ricky finally found a scrap of hallway with almost no one in it, it didn’t really help.
There was an attendant a few doors down, but his alpha looked him over before dismissing him entirely. Being a servant made him invisible in the eyes of Prince Richard Banes, even as Stede felt painfully aware of the audience.
Ricky’s grip on his arm hadn’t lessened, as he maneuvered Stede so that he was against the wall while Ricky stood close in front, leaned in close. Stede knew exactly what he was doing: creating the illusion of an intimate moment between an alpha and his omega, just in case anyone he cared about turned the corner.
He supposed it was an intimate moment. Just not the sort of intimate moment it appeared to be.
“What was that?” Ricky hissed. “You’re here to make me look good, not make them laugh at me!”
Calm, he reminded himself, trying to push out that sense, even as his own emotions tumbled around.
“It’s all these perfumes,” he said, before wincing. That sounded like an excuse. His alpha wouldn’t want an excuse, he’d want a promise it wouldn’t happen again. “I was distracted. I won’t get distracted again.”
He wasn’t here because these people liked him. They absolutely did not like him, and they never would; he’d given up on that ages ago. He was here because he understood them. When they didn’t cooperate with what Ricky wanted, he knew how to get them to cooperate. And then he could relay that to Ricky.
“I have to meet with Siegfried, but you need to fix this. Find Antoinette and Gabriel, and charm them. We need them on board.”
He knew that. He did. But all the different perfumes on this ship made his head spin, and he just couldn’t keep focus. He hated the perfumes, hated this fashion. And of course a ship like this was all about fashion.
It wasn’t so bad when you encountered someone out in the open wearing a scent inspired by alpha pheromones. Even with the scent being powerful enough to stand out to less sensitive beta noses, the artificial tang was easy enough to dismiss - but it was another story entirely in the crowded confines of a ship. He didn’t understand why betas would want to coat themselves in those smells, but they did anyway.
He knew why the smell of a protective alpha - woodsy and deep - would be appealing, but that didn’t mean he wanted to coat himself in it. And he absolutely wouldn’t want to coat himself in the smell of an angry one, all vinegary and sharp. The latest fashion featured every emotional state one could imagine, all of them overlaid with that sour note.
And on a ship like this, stuffed full of people trying to be fashionable and impress one another, they all just merged together in a way that clouded his head and made him feel nauseous.
“I understand,” he murmured, looking down at his alpha and trying his hardest to push out calm, calm. Trying to soothe Ricky’s frustration before it got worse, before he took it out on Stede in a way that was harsher and likely to leave more than a few bruises on his arm.
Stede was very aware that Ricky hated being shorter than him. There were only a couple of inches between them, but he still hated it. And usually when they had these moments, Stede tried to sit and let his alpha feel taller, larger, more in control. And he could see that frustration here, even though Ricky was the one who’d put them into this position, who’d crowded Stede against the wall in a way that their height difference was obvious.
But he could see the pheromones working, too. He’d been pushing out that soothing, calming scent that he’d worked so hard to master, and he could see the frustration softening, the anger releasing just a bit. He could feel it too, in the way that the grip on his arm eased.
Ricky sighed. “I just need you to do your job, darling. Stay focused. We’re almost done.”
He finally let go of Stede’s arm, and he had to fight the urge to immediately rub at it. It hurt. But drawing attention to that would be a mistake, would make his alpha think he was making a show of it, was trying to make him feel guilty - as if that would work. Stede knew better, by now.
“I’m going to my meeting. I’ll come find you when it’s done,” Ricky said, calming even more now that Stede could focus on what he was putting out and was no longer just reacting to the pain. He couldn’t hold back the flinch when Ricky patted his arm in what he probably thought was a reassuring way, but at least his alpha didn’t seem to notice it. “I know you’re trying. You just need to try harder.”
And then he left.
Stede slumped against the wall as soon as he was gone, hand already up and rubbing at his arm, as if he could rub away the bruises he knew were taking shape. God, if Ricky ever realized what Stede was doing, the way he was calming him when Ricky got like this…it wouldn’t end well. But Ricky had been his alpha for a long time now, and he still hadn’t figured it out yet.
Maybe he wouldn’t ever figure it out. Stede hoped he wouldn’t ever figure it out.
Stede closed his eyes and let himself just breathe for a few moments. He just needed to collect himself before diving back into that mess of painfully artificial scents that made all of his emotions go haywire, that made his body think he was surrounded by alphas all in disarray. This ship might be filled with mostly betas - most people were betas, period - but his body didn’t understand that. Even in this hallway there were still traces of those perfumes. He just couldn’t get away from them, and just couldn’t think with all of it surrounding him.
He knew it wasn’t intentional. None of these people were trying to make him or other omegas feel so mixed up. They just never entered into the equation. Why worry about how all of these perfumes so close together would make an omega feel, when these people so rarely even interacted with an omega?
He doubted most of them even realized the impact it had. And those that did clearly just didn’t care.
A cough from down the hall drew his attention, and he flushed as he realized that he’d forgotten about the attendant.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, floundering with what to say. It would have been better for his alpha to reprimand him in private, and surely they could have found somewhere private.
“This office is empty,” the attendant said simply, not even looking in his direction. And Stede stared at him blankly, until the man sighed and said, with more emphasis. “No one has used it all day.”
He realized suddenly what the man was saying, and moved towards the door in relief. The deck of the ship would have probably been better, but he would have been questioned up there. People would have been watching him, wondering what he was doing.
“Thank you…” he trailed off, unsure of how to address the attendant. He’d been present when they arrived earlier, of course, but he hadn’t been introduced.
“Abshir.”
“Thank you, Abshir,” he said softly, offering a smile. Abshir just nodded, still not looking directly at Stede as he pushed the door open.
Stede went inside and let the door shut behind him, and could have sobbed in relief at how clear the air was. There was a faint trace of smoke, but it was faint enough to have been from a day or two earlier. No perfumes, no fake alpha pheromones twisting his head around and making him react to things that weren’t even happening.
He slumped into the chair behind the empty desk, and just focused on breathing the clean salty air.
The funny thing was that alphas didn’t even smell that strongly all of the time. It was normally a mild thing, something he didn’t pick up on unless the alpha in question was feeling strong enough emotions to be releasing pheromones, or he got close enough to get a strong scent. So being surrounded by all of it, even knowing it was fake, made him feel like he was surrounded by alphas on the verge of losing control. It had been stressing him out more and more throughout the day. He could feel the constant stress starting to make his head fuzzy, starting to impair his judgment and affect his control over his own pheromones.
When he was younger, he hadn't even known that sort of control was possible. He knew that alphas and omegas both put out different pheromones depending on their emotions, and that others reacted to them. Alphas reacted most strongly to omegas and vice versa, but even betas could be influenced a bit. An angry alpha made everyone nervous, a happy omega helped put everyone in a good mood.
All of that was common knowledge. But he hadn't ever known you could control it. No one has ever sat him down and explained it in any of his lessons on biology, and he desperately wished someone had; it would have made the early days of his bond with Ricky much, much smoother.
Instead, he'd had to figure it out the hard way. Because whilst the common idea was that the pheromones put out by a hurt or anxious omega would inspire their alpha to protect them, that hadn't been Stede's experience at all. Maybe it was true for some bonds, but it absolutely was not true for his.
Omegas were delicate. They were meant for the home sphere, for bearing children and rearing families. Stede, however, wasn’t delicate, or at least he wasn’t delicate enough.
He’d never been able to hold onto a pregnancy long enough for a child to result, but his alpha still hadn’t given up trying. Part of him was grateful for that, because the idea of trying to raise a child terrified him. The other part flinched away from his alpha’s frustration, disappointed that he couldn’t give him an heir, the one thing he was meant to provide.
So he had to help in other ways, since he couldn’t do what he was meant to. What he was supposedly built for.
Ricky just thought he was charming, that he understood the social currents well enough to help direct people to do what he wanted.. But there was more to it than that, and it felt like a dirty little secret, using his pheromones to try and help his alpha. Or just to help himself, he supposed, because the happier Ricky was, the better things were for Stede.
Voices out in the hall caught his attention, and he raised his head, listening. He heard Abshir’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. The sound of footsteps moving away.
And then quiet, for a few moments. Long enough that he thought whatever was going on had ended, up until the door opened and a man hurried inside.
He seemed distracted, huffing out a frustrated breath and shutting the door behind him. Distracted enough that he hadn’t even noticed Stede, sitting quietly at the desk. In fact, he didn’t notice Stede until he turned around and froze at the sight.
He was older than Stede, although it was hard to tell how much older. Stede wasn’t exactly a spring chicken himself, these days. Short gray hair, done up with product and swept back until it was stiff and harsh; that was a surprise. Most of the people on this ship, as was common at a party like this, went with wigs instead. Although he still did the make-up that was so popular, a powdered face with a little black beauty mark just below his eye.
He was handsome. It was too bad that he had to immediately open his mouth and spoil it.
“What the fuck?” he demanded, recoiling. “There’s not supposed to be anyone in here.”
Stede wrinkled his nose. He might be handsome but he certainly didn’t sound like he belonged at this party, not using language like that. Not sounding like that either, with a distinctive accent absolutely nothing like anyone else on board. And even with the makeup and the clothes, he didn’t quite fit the look of this crowd. Stede stood up, subtly flaring out his nose to try and catch a scent. It could be hard to do out in a crowd, but in an enclosed space like this with no one else there and no distractions, he might be able to pick up something.
And it would be important information. If this man was an alpha, then Stede needed to approach him very, very differently. Especially alone like this.
Nothing. Except…traces of omega, maybe? But that could just be from being around an omega. And he looked angry, but he didn’t smell angry, so he couldn’t be an alpha. Alphas let off too many pheromones when they grew angry to hide that.
Beta or omega, then. Although if he was an omega, then he was clearly one without much of a sense of self-preservation. He couldn’t possibly have gotten Stede’s scent that quickly, to know he wasn’t an alpha himself.
“Are you?”
The man stared at him. “Am I what?”
“Supposed to be in here,” Stede continued patiently, although he knew he was growing snippy. “Because I was invited in.”
Technically, Abshir had opened the door for him. That counted as an invitation in his book.
The man flushed. “None of your fucking business. Who are you?”
“Stede Bonnet-Banes,” he introduced himself, not bothering with the titles that his alpha’s position gave him. He suspected this man wouldn’t be impressed by titles. “And you?”
Interesting. He hesitated before saying anything.
“Thornrose,” he finally said, haltingly. “Godfrey.”
“The phrenologist?”
Oh, so that was why Antoinette had been talking about skulls.
Thornrose stared at him with an expression that couldn’t have looked more confused. Stede began to wonder if he’d had too much to drink, given that he was using language like that at a party, and couldn’t manage a simple conversation about his own profession.
"...yes."
He didn't sound very sure of that. But Stede didn't get a chance to dig in deeper, because something rippled across the man’s face, and he asked sharply, "Banes?"
"Bonnet-Banes," he corrected. "Prince Banes is my alpha."
Never Ricky, in public. Never even Richard. It was either Alpha or Prince Banes. Even in the early days, when he'd still been trying to charm Stede, he'd been very clear about that. It was about status and respect, of course. Because what sort of alpha let his omega be familiar with him like that, embarrass him like that? Respect was integral to the relationship.
Pity it never seemed to translate to respect for Stede.
Even the memory of that long-ago talk made his lip curl. Not so much in disgust with Ricky - although he had plenty of that - but disgust with his younger self for being so completely taken in by the man. He'd been so charming and appreciative, so admiring of Stede, that he'd let himself miss all the signs.
But now he was well and truly stuck, and there was no point in dredging it up. Yes, he'd been foolish, but he couldn't go back and change that now. All he could do was manage the situation he was in.
Thornrose was staring at him sharply, almost predatorily, and Stede uneasily took another sniff. No, still no alpha scent. But that look was absolutely one of an alpha on the prowl, and he did not like having it directed at him. And he didn't understand what had caused it, either.
"Prince Richard Banes is your alpha," he said slowly, something speculative entering his voice.
The tone in Thornrose’s voice made him suddenly unsure whether he should have identified himself as an omega or not. It could be a risky thing to be up front about, sometimes. But following it up with declaring himself as belonging to someone powerful should have protected him, more than admitting his designation endangered him.
The room felt too small, suddenly. He wondered if he should send out more of a calming scent, but Thornrose didn't seem angry anymore, and it might not even work on him. This felt like a different sort of danger, and it wasn't one he was sure how to handle.
Right. Time to go back to the party.
Stede raised his chin, and approached the door. Which also meant that he approached Thornrose, who didn't move a single muscle, just watching him intently as he approached. He stopped just out of arm’s reach, and drew himself up, pulling on every ounce of high-society disdain his family had ever tried to drill into him.
"I have to get back to the party," he said. "My alpha will be looking for me."
He really wouldn't be, not yet. But Stede did still have a job to do. Thornrose met his gaze, and Stede could feel his heart thumping frantically in his chest, and he suddenly wondered what would happen if Thornrose didn't step aside.
A beta had never made him feel this way from just a look. Neither had an omega. Only alphas had ever triggered his instincts like this, had made something inside of him cringe back like a small prey-creature, like a rabbit wanting to run.
And he suspected, given the sharpness of his gaze, Thornrose would give chase if he did run. There was an eagerness to the thump-thump-thump of his own heartbeat that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt.
Even his alpha had never made him feel like this, and he almost wanted to try it, just to see what would happen.
But he just held his ground, chin raised and defiant, and Thornrose eventually stepped aside.
"Enjoy your party," he murmured.
Stede pushed past him and into a completely empty hallway. He let the door fall shut behind him, and took in a gasping breath.
What was that?
His heart was still beating rapidly, but no longer in that same rhythm, and he had the sudden scrambled thought that their hearts must have been beating in time together, but had fallen out of sync now that there was a door between them.
It was a ridiculous thought. Thornrose wasn't even an alpha, he would have smelled it. But his body didn’t seem to care, and he realized with a flash of shock that it wasn’t fear that he’d been reacting with.
The hallway was empty. He had to get control of himself before anyone saw him, before anyone smelled him. Most of the party consisted of betas, but even they might be able to smell an omega in the state he was in, if their own faux-alpha perfumes didn’t overwhelm it. They’d be able to see it too, he realized, as he glanced down.
Someone would tell Ricky.
The thought hit like the shock of an ice bath. It wouldn’t matter how he found out, whether it was someone attempting to be kind or someone making a mockery of him, he would react the exact same way: with fury. The sort of fury that Stede wouldn’t be able to calm with some mild pheromones.
Ricky grew jealous enough when someone paid too much attention to Stede without his permission, and Stede had never even shown this sort of interest in any of those people. How much worse would it be if he knew that his mate was showing interest in return?
An incident from years ago rose up in his head. That naval officer, Hornberry, who’d so shyly approached Stede to discuss the gardens of the estate he lived in with Ricky. For all that the man was an alpha, you’d never have guessed it from the way that he’d approached Stede. Gentle, unsure, sweet. And absolutely none of it had been over the line. There’d been nothing inappropriate at all, for all that he could see Hornberry’s interest.
Everyone could see it, he supposed. Which was entirely the problem.
But the man made no overtures, and Stede hesitantly thought he might be making a friend. A real friend. Someone who chatted with him about insects and flowers, who didn’t think him strange. Who didn’t whisper about why he hadn’t produced an heir yet, who didn’t speculate on what might be wrong with him or lace every conversation with frustration and blame.
It was lonely, being mated to Prince Banes. Stede hadn’t realized how lonely it would be, and how it would extend through his whole life, whether his alpha was away on trips for business, or at home alongside him. His family had money, of course, but he hadn’t realized just how differently the old world titled classes, like Ricky’s family, treated their omegas. Everyone talked about how protected and cherished they were, but didn’t talk about what that meant.
New money, Stede had been called regularly. It had come up so frequently in the early days, when he would slip up or not understand how he was supposed to behave. It was always said with a curled lip, full of contempt, until he figured out all those little rules that no one bothered to explain.
But then Ricky had returned from his trip. And Stede had learned his lesson about showing interest of any kind in another man, regardless of how innocent it was. He wasn’t even sure if the designation had mattered; he suspected that his alpha would have reacted the same way, no matter who it was.
Those memories did a very effective job of calming him down in the here and now. So he went to rejoin the party, diving back into that mess of disjointed scents. He still had a job to do, after all.
After Stede had rejoined the party, he’d found Gabriel easily enough. And he even thought he made up some ground there, made up for his earlier faux pas. Ricky’s project needed more financial support, and getting him and Antoinette on board would be important. But Gabriel still insisted that Antoinette had to agree as well, so Stede had gone to seek her out.
Perils of marrying another beta, you understand. Or maybe you don’t.
Gabriel had said it and laughed, something malicious dancing under it when he’d told Stede to get her approval before he agreed to anything. He’d been watching eagerly for Stede’s reaction to the comment, and had seemed disappointed when he hadn’t gotten any reaction at all.
Stede hated this ship. These people. But he was used to the passive aggressive comments, the hidden meanings designed to needle at him or poke at his uselessness, and he just smiled blandly and let the man think he was a simpleton who had missed his meaning entirely.
Stede knew how little he was valued, as an omega who couldn’t produce children. He knew how little his opinion mattered to these people, to anyone, even his own mate. He didn’t need Gabriel to tell him that.
He’d found Antoinette in the music room, along with an entire crowd of people riled up and cheering along to someone playing the harpsichord. He was playing something Stede had never heard before, something energetic and wild. He hadn’t even realized that you could make the harpsichord sound like that.
He knew he needed to approach Antoinette and work on getting her agreement, but the party was devolving into laughter and loudness and she was right in the thick of it. He might be good in one-on-one conversations, but he was absolutely not good at that sort of thing. So he just waited and watched, until the music ended.
But the music ending didn’t change the tenor of the crowd, and they stayed loud and wild. Approaching her in the middle of that would be a mistake, he knew, so he decided to wait a bit longer.
Instead, he found himself drawn over closer to the harpsichord and the man standing by it. He hadn’t seemed nervous at all while he was playing and being cheered, but now that the attention was off of him, there was an unsure quality to the way he was holding himself that made Stede’s chest ache in sympathy.
There were flowers in his hair. Real flowers, delicate little white buds woven in, along with butterfly clips to hold his hair up. How lovely.
“Hedychium coronarium,” Stede exclaimed, fascinated. It was so hard to find flowers at sea, and here was someone wearing them in his hair. “Do you grow them?”
The man in front of him froze, his shoulders stiffening. He turned towards Stede, eyes wide and startled. “What’d you say, mate?”
“Your flowers,” he explained. “They’re also called butterfly ginger. You did a wonderful job with them, they’re so lovely woven in like that.”
The other man reached a hand up to his head hesitantly, almost nervously touching his hair before the smallest of smiles slid onto his face. His mouth was almost hidden under the beard, but the lines around his eyes crinkled.
His eyes were so warm.
“Thanks. And I just, uh, found 'em. Liked how they smelled.”
Stede leaned in closer, catching a whiff of that spicy, floral scent and taking it in with a sigh. It wasn’t strong enough to overcome the perfumes in this space, but it was still a hint of something clean and real. Even just that small breath of it made his head feel less foggy.
And there was maybe something else in there that was this man’s own scent, a sort of leather and salt smell that combined with it so well. He couldn’t even tell the other man’s designation with all these other things layered over it, but it was so refreshing. “It smells wonderful. You chose well.”
He realized a moment later that he’d leaned in far closer than was appropriate and hastily pulled back. But the other man didn't seem offended, and just watched him with what he almost thought might be that same nervous fascination Stede felt.
“All these fucking smells, mate. Glad I’ve got something to drown it out. What the fuck do these people want to smell like this kinda shit for?”
A flash of wonder, that he’d found someone who felt the same way about it as him. Was he an omega? But there weren’t many omegas on board, and he’d met them all. Probably just someone else with an especially sensitive nose.
“No one else seems to mind them, but I’m afraid they really do a number on me,” he admitted. Having something real to remind him that the scents around him weren’t, would help so much. “I wish I’d thought to wear flowers myself.”
The other man reached up to his hair and plucked out a flower, holding it out to Stede.
Stede stared at him.
“I’ve got a million of the little fuckers in my hair. Won’t miss just one.”
He hesitated, before reaching over and taking it. Their fingers brushed, and he was struck by the urge to leave them there. The other man’s skin felt warm and rough, and-
Oh god. It had to be all the false pheromones around him, making him react this way. First with Thornrose, and now with this man? He didn’t even know his name. He pulled his hand away quickly, clutching the flower to his chest as he sternly tried to get his heartbeat under control.
“Thank you,” he said softly, swallowing hard before continuing, holding the flower up to his nose to breathe in that smell. “I’m Stede.”
I’m Stede. What was that? That wasn’t how you introduced yourself at a party like this! At a minimum he needed to include his surnames, that clear marker that he was a mated omega, that he was unavailable.
But the other man didn’t seem to mind his mistake, an even deeper smile spreading across his face as he introduced himself.
“I’m-“ he started, then shook his head. “Jeff. The accountant.”
Jeff didn’t look like any accountant he’d ever met. He didn’t sound like any accountant he’d ever met either, using the same sort of language that Thornrose had.
“You play harpsichord very well for an accountant. I thought perhaps you were a professional.”
Jeff puffed himself up, beaming. “Playing harpischord is very important for an accountant. Do it all the fucking time.”
“Oh, do you play often for your clients?”
“Have t’keep them entertained somehow. Between, y’know. Money shit.”
“High society types do often have a short attention span,” he agreed.
Jeff squinted at him. “Aren’t you one of these types? All fancy with your wig and ruffles and fine fabrics.”
Stede shrugged ruefully, “Oh, I am. Which means I know exactly how short it is.”
He considered the flower for a moment, then carefully worked it into his cravat, tucked against the lace behind it. It wouldn’t be visible, but he’d be able to smell it, which was the important part. He wasn’t sure he wanted it visible, wanted any of these people to be able to see it. It wasn’t for them, it was for him.
Stede looked back up at Jeff after tucking it away, and felt himself flush at the way he was smiling, at that pleased look. And then he reminded himself to calm down again. He didn’t understand what was wrong with him this evening.
Could he be getting close to a heat? No, his last one had been too recent for that, and they’d been growing more and more infrequent lately - a fact that his alpha took great pains to remind him of, as if he had any control over it. It had to be all the pheromones, fake though they may be.
It was as if thinking of Ricky summoned him, and Stede’s heart dropped as he spotted his alpha crossing the room towards them. Their bond was a weak and sluggish thing at the best of times, but he didn’t need the bond to read the way Ricky’s eyes were narrowed, to read the annoyance in his frame or the jealousy on his face.
Stede hastily took another step back from Jeff, suddenly worried he’d still been standing too close to him, that he’d looked too interested. That maybe Ricky had caught the little spark of attraction that Stede had been trying to hide.
He was expecting the grip that sealed onto his arm in the exact same place he’d been gripping earlier, but he still couldn’t hold back the flinch at those bruises being dug into again. And he knew that Ricky caught it this time, as a flash of possessive satisfaction flared along their bond.
Their bond had shriveled over the years, to the point where they only seemed to get a sense for each other when they were physically close enough. He wasn’t even sure if Ricky could really feel him through it, and he knew he himself only felt it when strong emotions echoed through.
Stede had even debated asking if Ricky wanted to dissolve it entirely, to separate and find himself another omega, one who could give him the heirs he wanted so badly. They both had to sever the bond for that to work, and it would be painful, but Stede thought he might like it.
He wouldn’t walk away with anything if they did that, and he wasn’t even sure where he would go. He still thought it might be worth it.
But he hadn’t brought it up. A little voice in his head whispered it would be a mistake, when his alpha grew so jealous over even the suggestion that Stede might want someone else, or that someone else might want him.
“I thought I knew everyone attending this party,” Ricky said coldly, not looking at Stede. “Unless you’re staff?”
Stede winced. Jeff was clearly not staff, even if he wasn’t dressed exactly the same as most of the attendees. No wig, no powdered face, and beards like his were absolutely not in fashion, even if it looked lovely on him. It looked soft and well cared for, and the bows were so whimsical.
Jeff’s eyes were fixed darkly on Ricky’s hold on Stede’s arm, and he hastily spoke up, trying to keep this from getting worse. “He’s a guest. This is Jeff-”
Oh god, why had he not gotten his surname?
“The accountant. And this is Prince Richard Banes.”
“His alpha,” Ricky followed with, immediately, voice sharp, and Stede flushed again. This time it had nothing to do with attraction, and everything to do with embarrassment. The way Jeff’s eyes flicked over to him in surprise before zeroing back in on Ricky made it clear that he hadn’t realized Stede was an omega.
Another reason he should have listed his surnames. There was a little lump in his throat now that hadn’t been there before, as he wondered if Jeff regretted giving him that flower. If he wouldn’t have chatted with him, if he’d realized he was an unavailable omega instead of a beta.
“Alpha?” Jeff considered Ricky skeptically. “Thought you high society types kept your omegas all tucked away and hidden.”
Stede wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to be a jab about how the upper classes handled omegas, or a jab at how Ricky had brought his omega along to the party in the first place. Neither one felt right, and he wondered a second later if it was just an honest observation, not intended to be carrying some subtle insult at all.
Ricky’s lip curled. “Having him to attend a party with me is hardly the same thing as what the lower classes do. I’m not about to allow him to wander around in public unattended, but this is hardly public.”
“Allow,” Jeff murmured, disgust filling his voice with just that one word, and Stede felt a spike of anger echo through his bond with Ricky.
“Oh, I should let you know how things went,” Stede interrupted, turning towards Ricky and leaning into him slightly. Just a bit, just enough to draw his attention. He would have tried to tug him along, to physically draw him away, but that grip on his arm felt like a vise. Like his alpha was putting all of his anger into holding him there, and it hurt.
It was taking all of Stede’s focus to keep that hurt off of his face, to keep from showing it. He didn’t want to make a scene, not with all of these vultures around. Not with Jeff standing there, expression growing darker and darker. He didn’t want Jeff to think of him like that, like some misbehaving omega that had to be put in his place by his alpha.
Or maybe that wasn’t what he would think. That’s what the rest of this crowd would think and he seemed different than them - very different - but Stede didn’t want him to see this anyway. And Ricky’s anger was growing heavier and heavier, and he had to calm him down before he made a scene.
Stede tried to push out those calming pheromones, tried to use their bond to calm Ricky, but it was so hard to focus on the right things when he was this stressed. He knew his scent had to be anxious instead of soothing, and knew it was probably doing the exact opposite of what he wanted, because he could feel himself panicking.
Calm, he told himself frantically.
He was not calm.
But apparently he chose the right distraction because Ricky gave one last contemptuous look at Jeff, before turning and leading them away. Stede went with him - there was no escaping that hold on him unless he did want to make a scene - and caught one last glimpse of Jeff as they went.
It shouldn’t have surprised him when they wound up in that same hallway as before, but without Abshir present this time, but it did. His eyes fixed onto the door, and he wondered suddenly if Thornrose was still in there.
“Ricky-”
“Alpha,” Ricky snapped, and Stede flinched. He should have known better, even with no one here, that it was too public to address him so familiarly. He was too angry, to address him so familiarly.
And then Ricky was trying the door to the office, and leading them inside. Thornrose wasn’t there.
Stede stumbled when his arm was released, dropping into the chair by the desk with relief, even as Ricky moved in closer, planting his hands on the arms of the chair and leaning down over him.
“Well?” He demanded, as if he couldn’t smell the anxiety pouring off of Stede. Or as if he enjoyed it.
Stede knew he enjoyed it.
The scent of angry alpha was overpowering with Ricky this close, crowding Stede like this in the chair, trapping him. A part of him knew exactly what Ricky was doing, knew that he was using his own pheromones as a tactic to get Stede to fall in line, to play the part of the submissive omega.
He hated it. He hated that he was so out of sorts today that he could feel himself responding to it. Stede worked so hard to keep them in equilibrium, to manage Ricky and keep him calm enough that they didn’t do this. But his instincts were screaming that he’d upset his alpha, and he could feel his normal control starting to fly away. He should be focusing on staying calm, on trying to make Ricky feel calm, but he just couldn’t focus.
Stede arched his neck - not exposing his mating bite, because that was hidden under the cloth and lace of his clothing - but the intention of it was clear. The submission of it was clear, and he could read the satisfaction in his alpha’s eyes, as well as feel it thrumming through their bond.
Ricky always enjoyed putting Stede in his place.
Ricky stroked one hand along Stede’s bared neck, before asking again, “Well? Did you convince them to invest in my project?”
“I spoke with Gabriel. He agreed.”
His hand settled, stilling on his throat as Stede swallowed. It made his skin crawl, feeling it there.
“And Antoinette?”
“I didn’t get a chance-”
He broke off, heart thumping erratically as his alpha’s hand tightened. It wasn’t enough to hurt, not yet, but Stede knew how much force his alpha could put into his grip.
He was gripping the arms of the chair he was in, desperately keeping himself from pushing Ricky away. Because if he pushed him away, this would be worse. He needed to play the part of the obedient omega. The apologetic, submissive omega. Even if it made anger roil in his stomach, he couldn’t just push the man away.
He was stronger than his alpha, and he could physically do it. But it wouldn’t be worth the consequences, and his instincts were screaming at him to try and make amends instead of defend himself. Even if he really, desperately, wanted to. He wanted Ricky’s hands off his throat, wanted this heavy, furious scent suffocating him to just stop.
“You’re not very focused tonight,” Ricky said, an edge to his voice. “And what were you doing with that accountant? Is he why you didn’t get a chance?”
“Antoinette was busy,” he said stiffly. “I had to wait.”
“And you chose to wait with him.”
His alpha’s hand had tightened just a bit more. Just enough for it to be uncomfortable, on the edge of hurting. On the edge of cutting off his air.
Despite his intentions, he found that he’d snaked up one of his hands to grip at Ricky’s arm in return. He couldn’t stop himself, the anxiety sending flashes of cold through him.
“He’s an accountant,” Stede pleaded. “Maybe he can invest. Or has clients who can.”
If Jeff was on this ship, he had to have well-connected, wealthy clients. It was a good excuse, and he saw from the thoughtful way Ricky tilted his head that he was considering it.
It was logical. Ricky knew Stede was good at this sort of thing, and that it was a logical answer. Talking to Jeff hadn’t been logical at all, but Ricky didn’t need to know that.
His grip hadn’t eased yet, but Stede could feel the anger in their bond to starting to give way. And he still couldn’t focus enough to put out a calming scent, but he could try other things.
“I was just thinking of you,” he said softly, emphasizing his next word. “Alpha.”
Ricky shuddered, and the way his eyes darkened made Stede want to recoil. But instead of recoiling, he loosened his grip and stroked one hand down his arm instead, and felt that anger give way to arousal. And Stede might not be a fan of this either, but it was better than his anger.
The grip on Stede’s throat eased, although Ricky kept his hand there. He smiled down at Stede, something eager and appreciative entering his face, and then laughed. It made something deep inside of Stede shudder, a mix of relief and disgust that this was working.
It was a combination that made him feel sick. He wished he had never bonded with this man, never let his instincts focus on him as someone he wanted to make happy. Someone he wanted to care for. Because behind all of Stede’s anger and fear and hurt and disgust, his omega instincts were just pleased that he was making his alpha happy, and didn’t care how much he’d grown to hate him.
“Now, now, this isn’t the place for that,” Ricky murmured. “Do a good job tonight, and maybe I’ll give you what you want. You’re sitting across from Antoinette at dinner, so you’ll get another chance to convince her. Forget the accountant.”
He stepped in closer, nudging Stede’s legs open with his own, and that scent of rage was slipping away entirely as he slid his hand up to Stede’s chin and tilted his face up.
Stede closed his eyes as his alpha leaned down and kissed him, trying to ignore the flush it sent through his whole body, trying to ignore the way his body betrayed him by reacting to his alpha’s attention.
He couldn’t bring himself to return the kiss, so he just sat there, one hand gripping his alpha’s arm tightly again while the other squeezed the arm of the chair. But thankfully, Ricky seemed to take the lack of response as him trying to control himself rather than a lack of enthusiasm.
Stede was trying to control himself, that much was true. But it was to keep from pushing Ricky away, not pulling him closer.
There was a placard for Sir Godfrey Thornrose in front of an empty chair. Stede stared at it, wondering where he was. He’d only seen the man once in this entire time. What was he even doing?
Ricky let out an annoyed hiss as they sat. “Him?”
Stede glanced over, and realized that Antoinette wasn’t sitting across from him, like the original seating arrangement had shown. She’d sat down one place further, because an additional placard had been added between Thornrose and her. It simply read guest of Sir Godfrey Thornrose.
And that was Jeff standing in front of it, staring down at the place setting with wide eyes.
His heart thumped when Jeff looked up. And when Stede offered a hopeful smile, it thumped even harder as Jeff smiled back.
It was small, just a flash and then gone again as Antoinette started talking to him, but he'd still smiled. He wasn’t angry with Stede. He’d been afraid he’d be angry with him. Or disappointed.
Ricky was grumbling beside him, but didn't seem to have noticed their exchange.
Stede was feeling much better about the evening, now that he knew Jeff would be sitting across from him. He didn’t expect to make much conversation - not with a suspicious alpha by his side - but at least he had someone more pleasant to look at.
Antoinette was in front of Ricky, which meant that he was going to have to be the one to really work on her. And it seemed like it might be hard to get her attention anyway, as she was very focused on Jeff.
Stede was - not that he’d admit it to Ricky - relieved. Antoinette had been wearing a scent of an alpha on the edge of a rut, and it had made him want to run away and hide. She already had a hungry edge to her, and the scent made her feel that much more dangerous. He knew she wasn't truly dangerous to him - not like that, anyway, and especially not with his alpha standing right beside him - but his body didn't understand it.
The other alphas hadn’t seemed bothered by it, but he knew their noses weren’t as primed to it as an omega’s. And there had been very, very few omegas on this ship. It was a party, after all, and high society had very particular ideas about what sorts of situations omegas were suited for.
He wasn't even sure what she was chattering about, what Ricky was talking about beside him, because he'd finally realized how uncomfortable Jeff looked. He'd stared down at the place setting, then given a panicked look at the empty chair beside him.
Thornrose must be his friend, and Stede felt a flash of indignation that he'd left his friend alone at this party, when it clearly wasn't Jeff’s sort of crowd. How rude.
Antoinette reached out a hand towards one of the bows in Jeff's beard and he flinched violently away from her. Stede's heart lurched in sympathy at the wild look he gave her, even as the people around them - his alpha included - burst into peals of laughter.
Jeff scanned the table, hand clenched, but stopped when his eyes landed on Stede. He didn’t want to risk saying anything, but he still tried to encourage Jeff with just his eyes. He knew what it was like to be laughed at by this lot, knew how lonely it was.
Jeff’s hand unclenched.
The moment passed and conversation flowed around him. He participated in it at times, but most of it was fuzzy and indistinct, and he realized that the pheromones really were getting to him, because he was having even more trouble focusing. It felt like being drunk, but he’d had barely more than a glass of wine all night. Although that was changing, because the only drink being served with dinner was wine.
And Jeff looked just as jumpy. Whether it was his clear lack of familiarity with this sort of event or whether the scents were getting to him too, Stede felt a kinship with him, like they were the same. Stede didn’t even really know him outside of one small conversation, but it didn’t matter. Jeff felt like the only solid, fixed point in a ship being tossed around in a storm. And Stede hoped that he was that for Jeff as well.
When the first course was brought out, he saw the way Jeff’s hand hesitated over the cutlery. So he’d waited until he’d caught the man’s eye, and then carefully rested one hand over the appropriate utensil.
It had taken Jeff a moment to catch on. But after that, he followed Stede’s lead for the rest of the dinner. Jeff’s eyes stayed fixed on Stede for almost the entire time, and the attention did something to him, made his stomach flip around and his fingers tingle as he drank it up. The only person who ever watched him like that was Ricky, and that just made his stomach squirm in a different way.
They barely exchanged more than a few words the entire dinner, but they also barely looked away from each other for more than a few moments. It felt like an equal trade, somehow.
And a safe trade, because the few times they spoke directly to each other, Stede felt his alpha’s jealousy spike through their bond.
But towards the end, he forgot himself, forgot who was with him, and started to ask Jeff what he thought of the food. He’d stopped abruptly when Ricky’s hand landed on his thigh, so startled that he’d dropped his fork.
Ricky didn’t dig his fingers in. He didn’t need to, because just that hand was enough to remind him of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He was supposed to be charming Antoinette, or if not that, then at least talking others around to supporting Ricky. Not making eyes at an accountant.
Stede dropped his head back down, staring at his food as he reminded himself of all of that. And he meant to focus back on his job, because maybe that would ease some of the anger he could feel brewing besides him. But when he lowered his head, he caught a whiff of that flower tucked into his cravat.
The spicy floral scent cut through all the clashing scents around him, and he thought he even caught Jeff’s own scent, that note of clean leather. Jeff had given him that flower for no reason except to help. Stede had to keep trying to help him, in return.
So he did.
He abandoned the attempt at conversation, but kept up the demonstrations. And they made it to the end of the meal, somehow, with no further mishaps. Every time Stede found himself growing too fuzzy, struggling too much to keep focus, he just dipped his head and caught that little hint of Jeff’s scent.
It maybe didn’t help enough, when combined with the wine, but it still helped some.
Stede knew the night wasn’t going how it was supposed to, that he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to. And he supposed that he might actually be drunk by this point and not just dazed from the pheromones around him, but couldn’t really bring himself to care.
He thought everyone might be drunk, actually. Antoinette and Gabriel were even more loud and obnoxious, the party was growing increasingly wild, and even Ricky seemed glassy-eyed and distracted.
It was when Gabriel was loudly declaring the start of games, and they’d all started to filter into the parlor, that everything turned.
Jeff flinched away from Antoinette - again, because she just didn’t seem to understand or care that the man clearly didn’t want her touching his beard - and knocked into the drink cart. Without thinking, Stede reached out to steady him.
He kept Jeff from falling over. He did not keep the drink cart from falling over, glasses tumbling to the floor and shattering along with a bottle of wine. A bottle of wine that sprayed all over his shoes and stockings, shards of glass falling everywhere.
“Fuck, Stede, are you alright?” Jeff started, sounding almost frantic, but Ricky cut him off.
His alpha reached out and grabbed him, hauling him away from Jeff as he demanded furiously, “Stede? You don’t get to address him that way.”
It was too familiar. He’d known it was a mistake to introduce himself like that earlier, but he’d never corrected it. And Jeff didn’t know society well enough to realize what a mistake that was, addressing someone’s omega like that without permission from their alpha. And when his alpha was like this, no one could address Stede as anything other than Bonnet-Banes or omega without him taking offense.
“Alpha, it’s not-” Stede interrupted, trying to explain his mistake at introductions, but Gabriel was laughing loudly and drowning him out. And Ricky wasn’t listening, anyway; he wasn’t even looking at Stede.
Jeff had rounded on Ricky, glaring furiously at him, but Gabriel chimed in before he could say anything. “Why Jeff, you are such a lively party guest. So many interesting things happen around you.”
Jeff’s attention flicked over to Gabriel, that scowl not disappearing. “Stop doing that.”
“Am I doing something?” Gabriel asked, all pretend innocence, as Antoinette cackled.
“You’re doing shit with your voice, your words,” he snapped, throwing a wild glance around the room.
“Am I? How strange,” Gabriel answered, mocking even as people all around the room laughed. “This is just my normal voice.”
“Fuck you,” Jeff snarled. “You’re going to regret this.”
“You’re an accountant,” Ricky interjected disdainfully. “The only thing anyone would regret is hiring you.”
Jeff was leaving. Stede heard the man swearing as he left and wanted to follow him, to check if he was alright, but his alpha was right in front of him and furious. And the room was filled with laughter and his head was just so fuzzy that he couldn’t think straight.
Stede could hear the crowd trading jabs and mockery, and knew some of it was being directed at them. He knew not because he was able to make sense of the words, but because he could feel the humiliation flaring through his bond, could see it on Ricky’s face.
The world was spinning, as his alpha led him out of the parlor. Was he going to pass out? He’d never passed out from wine before, but he’d never drunk wine when his head was already clouded from pheromones, when his body couldn’t make sense of whether to run or soothe or fight. He almost did want to pass out, just so that he could stop feeling this way.
They were back in the dining room. There were people here, staff cleaning up from the dinner, but his alpha clearly only cared that they were away from the crowd that had been laughing at them. And he was screaming at Stede, and he knew he needed to pay attention, but he just couldn’t focus. He just kept catching snatches of it, instead, stray phrases here or there.
“…stuck here until morning, but if you think-”
That’s right, they were stuck on the boat all night, until it went back into port. Stede was stuck in these clothes until then, he realized, as he suddenly noticed his feet were wet. The wine had splashed across him, probably ruining his shoes and stockings, and he had to spend the night wearing them.
His shoes were white. Or they had been white and, strangely, he found that fact bothered him more than the screaming alpha in front of him. He liked these shoes. He didn’t particularly like Ricky, and was drunk and muddle-headed enough that even though he knew the consequences of this night were going to be awful, they seemed distant and unreal.
When the screams started, neither of them even thought it strange; just the party growing unruly as the night grew later. Until the screams grew loud enough to make sense of what was happening, and one word broke through the haze in Stede’s head, and the rage from his alpha.
Pirates.