#wow can you tell theres an improvement between the first and the last one haha

[thethespacecoyote]

Did the prompt for day 5 of the omegaverse challenge! “Protective instincts” with some semi-badass Rhys!

Rhys is very tired.

Being Jack’s PA can hardly be called a thankless job—the pay is better than anything he could’ve hoped for back when he was first interning, not even when he and Vaughn had high hopes not yet crushed by middle-of-the-pack drudgery—and honestly as much as common sense tells not to date one’s boss, Rhys feels it makes things easier. There’s no fear of airlock or random strangling or anything like that that hangs above the necks of everyone else who works at Helios. At this point, Rhys is a part of Jack—his right hand man, at this point crucial to his success and function as Hyperion’s apex alpha—and as cruel as Jack can be Rhys has a hopeful feeling he won’t harm someone he considers so intimately his.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t be an obtuse, self-centered asshole who fucks Rhys over on accident.  

Jack had “forgot” to tell Rhys they needed to put together a presentation for the surveyors they’d contracted to scour the woodlands of Meliae. Jack was working on a hunch, a rumor from settlers on the planet regarding the sap from the native trees. Apparently it’d provide excellent lube for Hyperion’s —and some other things, Jack had said with an eyebrow waggle—so all right, Rhys had spent all of last night doing research and slapping together a decently pretty presentation over a latte who’s foam had long collapsed in on himself. When he’d texted Jack thinly veiled annoyance, he’d only gotten a laugh and a barely comprehensible “inspiring” message that told him Jack was probably drinking.

Thankfully, the CEO had shown up to the late morning meeting with no sign of a hangover, unlike Rhys—who’d subsisted on a couple hours sleep and the dregs of his cold coffee and still managed to pull himself together under a crisp shirt and straight tie. Rhys didn’t know what he would’ve done if Jack hadn’t arrived.

“Wow, you look like crap.” Unfortunately Jack’s flippant remark and quick up-down of Rhys’ haggard state doesn’t exactly improve the omega’s mood.

“At least you’re being honest now….seriously, just say that, rather than the half-assed ‘motivation’ from last night.”

“Did I text you? Haha, whoops,” Jack brushes his hand over his head to emphasize. “Didn’t even remember. Last night got a little….fuzzy.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Rhys rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off a building headache. Someday Cybernetics would figure out how to install something to inject pain meds directly into the brain.

The meeting hasn’t begun yet, but the representatives from the survey company are already milling about the door of the room, taking coffee and pastries from the table set up. A series of oohs and ahhs spring up as soon as Jack shows up with Rhys tailing behind him. No one talks to him, and for once he’s thankful of his fairly invisible position as Jack’s assistant. They’ll all have to listen to him present in a couple minutes anyway.

Rhys has the whole thing downloaded into his brain and honestly just wishes he could plug himself into the podium and have the whole thing present itself, but research says audiences respond better to a live human voice—though from the looks of it, these representatives won’t need too much convincing. Rhys folds his arms, watching the other men and women take turns lavishing Jack with all kinds of platitudes. He wonders if the presentation is even necessary, but they’re all gathered with catered breakfast anyway, so they might as well follow through with it.

Rhys’ stomach is gurgling, upset with only cold coffee to sustain it. He fists his hand into his shirt, trying to quell his twitching middle.

He considers grabbing a croissant or something from the table set up for the meeting, when he notices another one of the other company’s entourage approach Jack. Rhys’ nostrils flare, picking up on the softer scent characteristic of an omega. This isn’t unusual—smaller companies often bring along a conciliatory omega or two whenever they meet with Jack, to soften the alpha’s mood and maybe even swing the decision in their favor. Rhys doesn’t fully understand it this time, however, considering Hyperion is soliciting them for their services—so maybe this is just an overeager fan like the others?

That raises his hackles.

Rhys pauses and puts the croissant back down on the serving platter, redirecting back towards his boyfriend just in time to hear a snippet of their conversation.

“—would be an absolute pleasure to work with you, sir, really hope we can reach an understanding here—“

Boy. Rhys does not like that flirty tone in the omega’s voice. He stalks right up to the pair of them, hoping to catch a disapproving or disinterested look on Jack’s face, but to his horror he finds that his alpha has an easy smile that doesn’t go away even when Rhys moves next to him, his own expression tight. Jack nods in recognition but says little more as the omega continues. Rhys’ fingers clutch tighter against the fabric covering his stomach.

He feels he can hold his frayed nerves and frazzled instincts together, but then the omega reaches out and touches Jack’s face.

Rhys likes to think of himself as a fairly well-put together omega. Even though he’s dating the top alpha on the station, he doesn’t give into baser instincts—at least outside of the bedroom.

But seeing this omega touch Jack—with such obvious intentions and right in front of him, when it’s well known that he and Rhys are dating, just makes him snap.

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his teeth are buried into the omega’s hand, so he has no means to stop himself.

Rhys’ fangs aren’t particularly large, but they are sharp, and though he doesn’t usually bite people, especially not during work-hours, he’s almost surprised at how easily he pierces the flesh of the omega’s hand. The tips of his fangs dig in deep, splashing blood inside of his mouth as screams ring in his ears.

Something hard bashes against the side of his head, knocking his brain around and making his eyesight flash in little popping lights, but instead of coaxing him into relaxing his jaws he only bites down harder. His jaw locks into place as his eyes squeezes shut, all anger and frustration crunched out into the offending omega’s hand even as blows and scratches rain on his head—at least until a familiar roar of anger stops them.

Rhys shakes his head, still keeping his teeth clamped on the bleeding hand until he feels warm, steady pressure on both of his shoulders. His eyes remain closed until a soothing, musky scent starts to filter in from around the smell of blood and enemy omega, followed by a steady voice speaking right besides his head.

“C’mon sugar. Easy. Let’s let go now.”

Only after a couple more moments of calming words does Rhys’ finally unlock his jaw and let his fangs slid out of the omega’s hand. It instantly falls out of his mouth but Rhys no longer cares about the man he’s bitten as soon as he opens his eyes and saw Jack’s face.

He looks surprised.

Cries of indignation erupt from behind him as Jack straightens Rhys up by the shoulders. The CEO exchanges a couple heated words that melts into goo in Rhys’ ears as he tries to calm down. An angry slam of the door moments later, thankfully leaves them in silence and isolation, apart from Hyperion security who are so ever-present they may as well not even be there.

Jack lets out a low whistle, tune unreadable. Rhys flinches, feeling his hackles rise as the reality of what he’d just done weighs into him proper.

“Rhys.” Jack tries to start, but the omega shakes his head.

“No, don’t lecture me,” Rhys gasps, his voice tight as if drawn over Jack’s thigh, frayed by his boyfriend’s inconsideration. “You lumped all this crap on me last minute, then you’re over here flirting and I—I just—“

He drops his head, feeling stupid. He’d let his emotions, his instincts get the better of him for one moment. But one moment is all it takes for an omega on Helios, before one gets branded as jealous and shrill and incompetent and—

“You’re mine, you’re mine, I don’t want anyone else to have you, I—“

“Hey, baby, shh, shh shhh shhhh.” Jack’s fingers touch against his cheeks, a little more firmly than Rhys expected. His cheeks squish up slightly at the pressure, making him feel even more self-conscious of his childish outburst. But in all honesty it’s hard to feel too badly when Handsome Jack is paying all his attention to you and looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

“Sorry…” Rhys mumbles, feeling the swollen tears in his eyes start to reach their breaking point. Jack’s thumbs swipe between his eyes though he’s not quite crying yet.

“Don’t, don’t sweetheart—“ Jack shuffles a little closer, their fronts brushing up against one another. “I should’ve—I didn’t think it was a big deal, but you were really obviously stressed and ready to snap, huh?”

Rhys chuckles dryly. His throat and nose feel filled with gunk.

“Was it that apparent?”

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you nearly take someone’s hand off. I mean, I didn’t know you in your youth—maybe theres a bunch of one-handed interns out there I don’t know about.”

“N-No, not many…or at least if there are, they’re not because of me…” Rhys sniffles, inhaling more of his alpha’s comforting aroma as Jack draws him closer. As much as he likes to downplay the whole animal side of his endotype, he can’t deny the calming effect that comes whenever Jack scented him.

“I’ve gotta be honest though.” Jack brushes his finger against Rhys’ lip, coming away with a smear of red on the tip. “Ripping into that other guy’s hand…that was pretty hot.”

“Means we’ll probably have to find another company to do the survey, though…”

“Eh, that’s cool. Honestly, I was thinking of just drumming up some volunteers and doing it in-house anyway.” Jack shrugs. “Some of these kids will do anything for a handshake and a lil’ bonus.”

“I-It’ll probably up costs to do that sort of training…” Rhys mumbles, only for Jack to lean in and press a kiss to his nose.

“Probably. But that’s all later talk, sugar. C’mon. Think my omega deserves a day-off of pampering for his little outburst.”

That sounds just about okay with Rhys.