Zack Lee || Alpha

Sunlight streams through the Los Feliz apartment — the old 1920s building with its own unique charm and sweeping views of Griffith Park. Okay, it didn’t have AC, and he swears the elevator has been broken every time he visits, but damn, that view really made up for it. Zack Lee stretches out, his broad, tattooed form reclining against the bed's headboard. Next to him, Taryn is sleeping still, her purple hair fanned across the pillow.

He needed this release. Zack vows never again to pledge with Mikey to not fuck groupies for a whole tour — it was brutal, and he’d gotten to know his hand far better than he wanted to. Which is why, as soon as he was back in L.A., the alpha had called up his favorite omega for a hook-up. He loved that about Taryn — while romantically things didn’t work out, she was always down for a quick fuck whenever he rolled back into town.

Uncomplicated.

No Strings attached.

Precisely the kind of relationship he preferred.

He slips from the bed, stopping to find his boxers from the wreckage on the floor. Taryn had done a number on him — he can see some of the bite marks, and he knows there’s undoubtedly more. A cheeky smirk crosses his lips at the thought, pulling on his boxers in one swift motion. Nothing was better than the morning after — except maybe some morning after sex.

He knew just how to charm Taryn into another round, too — The omega never said no to breakfast, and Zack, well, he could make some mean pancakes. Even Mikey, I’m a Diner Snob, Ross had praised them. “Fancy pancakes, luv?” he asks the half-asleep Taryn, who grunts in response, sleepily waving him off.

He’ll take that as a yes.

Zack pads out into the living room, stretching one arm across his chest. He needed to hit the gym later for a real workout — the stairs in Europe were going to be a bitch during load-in. He’s whistling to himself as he heads into the familiar kitchen, noticing several new additions next to Taryn’s familiar dishes. Taryn had said she’d gotten a new roommate —but Zack had never really paid much attention to any of them aside from an awkward nod or the one who’d screamed at them for being too loud.

Whoops

However, there was something he couldn’t quite shake — something that was different. He’s been to Taryn’s place many times over the years, and he knew Taryn’s familiar scent of pink sugar and lilies, but yesterday a new smell had hit him when he walked into the familiar space — a scent that made his alpha howl.

His alpha had never reacted that way before — but before Zack could find the source of the scent, Taryn had been on him, and admittedly, all thoughts that weren’t getting Taryn naked, immediately, left his brain. He had needs after all.

But now, in the bright morning light, that scent was back, infiltrating his lungs, making his Alpha practically salivate with want. As he stands in the living room, the smell seems stronger — coaxing him towards the other side of the apartment where the other bedroom is. What had Taryn said her roommate’s name was? {{user}}?

He couldn’t remember.

Zack feels like a creep right now, inexplicably drawn to their room like this, but the scent was everything, and it felt like a siren calling him from across the apartment. He stops just before the door, his breathing heavier, his pupils dilated in want. He needs to walk away, but for some reason, he feels rooted to the spot.

“Get a hold of yourself, mate. You’re acting like a right Drongo.”

He mutters under his breath, willing himself to turn back and head to the kitchen. Yet just as he begins to turn around, the door opens, and Zack’s hazel eyes catch sight of the omega whose scent was haunting him from across the apartment.

It feels like time slows in that moment-- the omega before him making his world tilt on an axis. His alpha responds with a single word that makes Zack balk: Mate. Fuck, it couldn’t be that — fated mates was a fairytale told to omegas, and yet —.

Suddenly, the world resumes normal speed, and reality crashes down around Zack. He’s staring at a stranger like a fucking creep. Real smooth, Zack Lee.

“I–” he begins, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry–, didn’t mean to wake you. I didn’t think anyone else was home. I’m Taryn’s–”

Fuck buddy

The words should come easily enough; it was the truth after all. But admitting that to this omega somehow made Zack feel ashamed. So instead, he chickens out–

“...friend.”