Work Text:
*
Stiles ran down the back alley at full speed, sweaty and out of breath, rushing towards the employee entrance of Dolce.
He had been late for his shift three times this month because the MTA sucked, and his train wasn’t there on time. While his boss usually didn’t mind his tardiness as long as he was willing to make up the time at the end of his shift, Stiles hated being anything but prompt.
His father had a motto: Early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable.
Stiles slowed down to a brisk jog as he got closer to Dolce, trying to moderate his breathing so it didn’t look like he’d been running a 40 yard dash. At the door, he fished around in his pocket looking for the keycard to scan into the security door.
“Please please please,” he muttered under his breath as he searched.
Finally, he found the card and swiped it through the scanner, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for the little light to turn green. After what felt like an eternity, the light flashed and he heard the familiar buzz as the door unlocked, and he slipped inside the bar ready to start his shift.
Lenny was working the back door tonight and he looked up at Stiles as soon as he entered, smirking looking at the clock pointedly.
“Running a little late, aren’t you?”
“Bite me,” Stiles muttered under his breath, knowing full well the weretiger would be able to hear him perfectly. Lenny chuckled under his breath and went back to his book, unphased by the omega’s snarky retort.
Lenny was actually Stiles’ favorite Dolce bouncer. The security team chosen to work the front of the bar was mostly composed of the more intimidating alphas on staff, for the explicit purposes of letting patrons know they wouldn’t take any shit.
The security staff in the back of the bar, however, were much more approachable and friendly, so as not to frighten the omegas on staff. But despite their gentle demeanor, they were no less formidable than those stationed up front.
Stiles could clearly recall one such occasion shortly after he started when he caught a glimpse of how truly vicious the back room staff could truly be, when a male alpha drunkenly tried to force his way towards the employees’ quarters. It was the first time he’d ever seen Lenny shift into beta, and he let out a roar so terrifying that the lights flickered throughout the entire bar.
Whether front or back, the Dolce security team was not to be messed with, and Stiles felt safer inside the walls of this bar than he did in many places in New York City.
Lenny was a good guy. And on a day like this -- when Stiles woke up later than he needed to, school was a gigantic pain in the ass, he’d left his wallet at home, and he was running seriously late for work-- he needed to see a friendly face.
Stiles clocked in on the free-standing machine near Lenny’s podium before heading up the stairs toward the locker rooms. He stashed his bag in his locker and stripped off his clothes, crumpling them up and shoving them inside before he headed down the hall toward the shower room.
In the showers he was quick and precise as he scrubbed himself with down the unscented soap, making sure to clean himself thoroughly. Dolce used a specific brand of soap that was strong enough to scrub most foreign scents from an omega, leaving only their natural scent, but was still able to leave their skin soft and smooth to the touch.
It was kind of a pain to go through the same routine at the start of every shift and between clients, but aside from producing fragrant milk, not carrying the scent of another alpha was the most powerful tool the omegas of Dolce had.
Stiles toweled off as he walked back to the dressing room, and he nearly bumped into Isaac who was using the hallway kiosk.
“Look who decided to show up for work this evening,” Isaac smirked as he entered an order into the system for the kitchen staff.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Stiles muttered under his breath, stopping to look into the mirror at his hair. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, trying to sculpt it into something chic and fashionable. “I’m having a colossally shitty day.”
“You alright?” Isaac looked up from the kiosk, pausing what he was doing to look at Stiles, his forehead crinkled in concern.
Stiles waved a hand dismissively, and stood up straight.
“Yeah, just a string of bad luck, nothing serious.”
Isaac hummed noncommittally and went back to what he was doing. Stiles walked over to him and peered over his shoulder, looking at the order he was typing in.
“What do we have here?”
“I’ve got three booths, a private table in the Jungle Suite, and a bachelor party in the Mardi Gras room.” Isaac shuffled to the side, giving Stiles room to look.
“Busy busy,” Stiles murmured, eyeing the screen. Fridays were usually packed, but Isaac seemed more swamped than usual.
“Busy indeed.”
Isaac went back to punching things into the computer, when he looked back at Stiles suddenly, his eyes lighting up as something crossed his mind.
“Hey, wait!” he looked through his notebook, his eyes scanning what he'd written. “Are you up for a table right now?”
“Depends,” Stiles shrugged. “My diet just rotated, so I’ve been producing pretty sweet for the past few days. What did they order?”
“Cinnamon.”
“I can do cinnamon.” Stiles did cinnamon best, actually, since it was closest to his body’s own natural flavor.
Every omega had a base signature taste to their milk, determined by genetics. Instead of artificially flavoring milk once it had been expressed, like many other companies tried to do, Dolce grouped their omegas based on their base flavor, using a strict diet to influence the taste.
Stiles looked at Isaac’s notebook, reading the scribbled words on the page.
“They’re looking for something more, too,” Isaac added.
“How much more?” Stiles sighed forcefully. He’d had a really long day, and being able to just lie down and let his mind wander was right up his alley. “How many?”
Stiles wasn’t opposed to customers who wanted sex, but lately he had preferred to be strictly tasting only. He loved a good, hard, no strings attached fuck just as much as the next person, but tonight the idea seemed more exhausting than it did hot.
“Three male alphas. Looks like a business meeting?” Isaac scratched his chin, recalling as many details as he could.
“The one doing the asking seemed the most interested, the guy next to him was a first timer, so it could go either way. He seems a bit too enamored with it all to know what to do with it, so I don’t know if he’s looking for a fuck.”
"And the third?"
“I don’t know, he was pretty hard to read. He just seemed….angry?”
“Angry?” Stiles’ eyebrows rose to his hairline at Isaac’s answer. Angry wasn’t automatically a bad thing; but more often than not, angry turned out to be trouble.
“Not angry,more like grumpy? ” Isaac corrected himself, seeing Stiles’ reluctance. “No, broody. He seemed broody,” he nodded his head with certainty.
“Broody?”
“Yeah, just broody. Not dangerous or anything.”
Stiles hummed thoughtfully and bumped Isaac over, entering his employee numbers in the kiosk. He clicked through the system menu until he reached the security feed, flipping around the various tables to eye the patrons.
“Which table?”
“Table….” Isaac double checked his notebook, “Table 16.”
Stiles pulled up the feed for table 16 and zoomed in on the three men.
The two older men on the same side were chatting amongst themselves, seemingly wrapped up in their own conversation. Stiles swiveled the camera to get a glimpse of the third man sitting across from them.
“Holy shit!” he squawked as he zeroed in on the youngest of the three. Stiles zoomed the camera in, trying to focus on the alpha’s face. ‘Brooding’ didn’t even begin to describe it, and this guy had a smoldering expression that sent Stiles’ libido into overdrive.
“Oh hell yes!” he said with a suggestive grin. “This table is mine, and I will fight anyone who tries to take it from me,” he said decisively, pointing his finger in the air to further punctuate his point.
Stiles logged out and stepped away from the kiosk, hurrying back to the dressing room to finish getting ready.
“You have five minutes before I give this table to Dunbar!” Isaac called out after Stiles, entering his numbers into the kiosk to finish putting in the rest of the orders.
“The hell you will,” Stiles muttered under his breath.
Back in the dressing room, Stiles ran some unscented product in his hair, sculpting it into his signature ‘just rolled out of bed after a romp’ hairstyle, and put on a bit of concealer to a few blemishes he had on his face. From the small drawer on the side of the vanity, Stiles pulled out the small case that housed his plug.
He pumped a few squirts of lube into his hand and coated the plug generously, coating the entire surface and using the excess to reach back and wipe over his entrance.
Stiles perched his leg up on a nearby stool and pumped a few more squirts of lube onto his fingers, before reaching back to work them into himself.
He shivered at the coldness of the lube, but worked through it, knowing he was short on time. Isaac didn’t bullshit, and if he said Stiles only had five minutes before he’d give away the table with his literal Dream Alpha, then Stiles knew he would give that shit away if he wasn’t back there in four and a half minutes.
“Please want to get laid, please want to get laid, please want to get laid,” Stiles chanted under his breath as he worked the plug into his hole, feeling the stretch of not being opened enough.
He put his leg down, leaning forward and giving himself a moment to adjust to the plug, before he shut the drawer to his vanity.
Stiles grabbed his robe from the locker, tying it loosely around himself and walked back out to the hallway to wait for Isaac.
*
Switching into work mode was usually a bit of a challenge for Stiles. He was not quiet by nature, and while he was able to stay silent once he got to that mental place, it was the getting there that was difficult.
The transition from normal, talkative Stiles to silent and seductive Stiles was a rough one. He calmed his breathing, focusing on mellow thoughts and getting into the proper headspace.
“You ready?” Isaac appeared behind him.
“Yeah,” Stiles replied, his demeanor already a bit more subdued than when he’d first spoken with Isaac. “Let’s go.”
Isaac led Stiles out from the back onto the floor. Together walked through the dining room, weaving through the tables full of libidinous diners, making their way to the booths.
Stiles allowed himself a few glances at the surrounding patrons, letting his eyes rake over naked bodies and allowing his body’s chemistry to be influenced by the outpouring of their pheromones, knowing it would only make him more appealing to the table. Eat your heart out, boys, he thought to himself, smirking.
The scent of a horny, lactating omega was almost too much for an alpha to resist, and Stiles absolutely did not want this dark and broody alpha to resist.
When they reached table 16, Isaac stopped in front of the curtains, looking over at Stiles. Isaac cleared his throat and rambled off the standard departure speech.
“What services did you agree to offer the table?”
“Milk tasting, plus benefits.” Stiles replied blandly and Isaac nodded.
The routine was lame, Stiles had to admit. But he liked that the system was in place. It had two purposes. The first was as an agreement between the staff and the omegas, clarifying what services the omegas had consented to do, setting the parameters so they didn’t feel obligated to perform any duties outside of those terms. The second was a simple emergency protocol briefing in case things went sideways and the omegas needed to get out fast.
“Closest omega emergency exit?”
"Uh, we're at table 16...so..." Stiles thought to himself for a moment, mentally orienting himself, “Side exit, behind the bar.”
“Yup," Isaac nodded. "Twins are working the front door, Alcide is working the bar, Lenny’s out back. Where’s the panic button?”
“Underneath the table, left hand side,” Stiles replied.
Isaac made a noise of agreement and reached out to take the booth's curtain in his hand. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking if Stiles was ready, and Stiles replied with a firm nod, squaring his shoulders and standing proudly. Isaac pulled back the velvet curtains, revealing the table full of alphas.
The alphas turned to face them, and if Stiles thought Tall Dark and Broody was attractive on the security feed, he was absolutely devastating in person.
Oh hell yes! Stiles mentally fist pumped.
The alpha’s eyes locked on Stiles and Stiles could see the exact moment that all thought left his mind. He was absolutely transfixed on Stiles, and Stiles knew he had every single ounce of this alpha’s undivided attention. He watched as the alpha’s gaze trailed up and down his body, taking in every square inch of him.
Remembering he was supposed to be working, Stiles untied his robe, removing the soft material from his body, showing off for the table. Before he could even hang it on the hook near the entrance, the alpha reached out to take the robe from Stiles’ hand, hanging it up for him.
And he’s a gentleman, too!
Stiles held back a smirk and instead nodded his head demurely, peering up at the alpha from beneath his eyelashes. In response, the alpha’s gaze sharpened, flaring his nostrils as he scented the air, his pupils blown.
Isaac helped Stiles up onto the table, all the while rattling off the spiel about security.
Stiles turned out Isaac’s voice, ignoring the words he’d heard a thousand times before.
With one last, almost imperceptible nod, Isaac left the booth, closing the curtains behind him and leaving Stiles splayed out in front of the three thirsty alphas.
Poor dears, Stiles fought the urge to wink, They have no idea what they’re in for.
And sure enough, it was only a matter of minutes before the most gorgeous alpha he’d ever laid eyes on leaned forward and captured his gaze before latching onto his tit and taking a long, drawn out pull.
*
The awkward tension hung heavy in the air as Stiles, Isaac and Derek stood there at the entrance of the booth.
Isaac was clearly confused at why Derek was still there, ready to take Stiles back to the employee area. As Stiles stood there staring at Derek it was as if everything clicked into place and he just knew. He was different. This was different. Stiles couldn’t let him get away.
He’d been with plenty of clients since he’d started there, but nothing had ever come close to the intense chemistry that he’d had with Derek. Stiles could still feel Derek’s hands on his skin, hear his words in his ears and feel the way he’d fucked him so, so good.
Stiles was sore in the best way possible, and he was absolutely stuffed full with the alpha’s cum. Stiles could still feel the ghost of his knot, pressed against him from the outside. Stiles had been taken to the brink by this mysterious alpha, but he wanted more.
He himself wasn’t a Were, but he absolutely felt marked and claimed by the powerful alpha. He wanted to pull Derek down for a second round, then a third and a fourth. He wanted Derek balls deep, knotted up inside him, pumping him full of his seed making sure he’d be sated and pupped.
Stiles never really thought of himself as the parenting type, but something about Derek brought out his most primal of urges, and the image of a full, round belly and heavy, leaky tits was the only thing he wanted out of life.
And yet, despite their moment of intimacy, the two were still strangers to one another. Stiles couldn’t leave this table, couldn’t walk away from this alpha, without knowing that he’d get to see him again in the future.
Stiles would have done anything to get more time with Derek. He stood there hoping Derek would speak to him, touch him, book another session, something, anything. Anything but go. But, to Stiles’ great disappointment, Derek didn’t do any of those things.
“No, it’s alright. I was just leaving.”
Instead, Derek said his goodbye and left the booth, heading up to the front of the bar. Leaving Stiles standing there feeling like his heart was going to shatter. Stiles watched him go, stunned. He knew this was wrong. This didn’t feel right. It was like the universe had brought them together, and for Derek to walk away now was to defy nature.
Stiles stood there for a few beats, scrambling to come up with a plan, when suddenly and idea came to his mind. He whipped around to face Isaac, eyes wide.
“Give me your headset,” he said, reaching up to Isaac’s ear and trying to unhook it from him.
“Stiles, what the hell!” Isaac reached back and swatted Stiles’ hands away from his headset. “We’re making a scene on the floor!” Isaac whisper-shouted.
Stiles rolled his eyes, and pulled Isaac backward into the booth, shutting the curtains around the two of them, shielding them from view of the other patrons in the dining room.
“Headset, now.” He fixed Isaac with a look and held out his hand expectantly.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re really bossy for an omega?” Isaac whined as he undid his headset and handing it over with a nonplussed expression.
“Yes. Often.” Stiles said, taking the earpiece and speaker from Isaac’s hand. He made quick work of nestling the earpiece in his ear and pressing the button for the mic.
“Lydia, in literal seconds you’re going to have a gorgeous broody alpha with the most intense eyebrows you’ve ever seen come up to the counter to tab out.”
“Does he need to be detained?” her voice came over the comm immediately, her tone all business.
“No,” Stiles’ voice was a rush. “I need you to offer him a membership.”
“They left it for you, I’m afraid.” Lydia’s voice came through the earpiece once again, but the comment didn’t make sense. But judging by the sweet, affected tone she used around alphas in the bar, Stiles knew she wasn’t talking to him.
She was talking to Derek.
“His name is Derek." Stiles murmured into the mic. His voice was rushed, and he tried to keep his tone quiet enough so the alpha wouldn't be able to hear him from Lydia’s earbud. "I don’t know his last name. I need you to offer him a membership.”
Stiles was so flustered by the whole encounter that he fumbled with the earpiece, dropping it onto the floor.
“Gówno,” he swore forcefully, dropping down to his hands and knees to look for the earpiece under the table.
“Isaac, will you fucking help me?” he hissed, frustrated and eager to get back to the conversation Derek was having up front.
Isaac sighed forcefully, but didn’t respond. Instead, he too dropped to all fours and helped Stiles look for the comm. He looked around for a few moments, and Stiles was so frazzled about what was going on up front he felt like he was moving in slow motion.
“Got it!” Isaac said, locating the tiny earpiece at the very back of the booth. He held it out to Stiles, who snatched it greedily from his hand and shoved it into his ear, catching the tail end of whatever Lydia was saying.
“...being able to use your membership benefits at any of our locations.”
Stiles listened with bated breath, desperately trying to hear everything that was being said up front. All the while, Isaac glared pointedly at the side of his face.
“Would you give me just a minute?” Stiles hissed at Isaac.
“I give you the table you want and this is how you repay me?” Isaac grumbled, crossing his arms and shaking his head to himself.
“We enjoyed having you, Mr. Hale. We hope to see you again in the future.”
Stiles began to freak out, wondering how much of the conversation he'd missed. Is he leaving already?
“He turned it down, Stiles,” Lydia's voice came back over the comm. “I’m sorry, I tried.”
“Thanks, Lyds,” he sighed, absolutely crushed. Even still, he couldn’t give up. He refused to give up.
Stiles knew this was his last chance. If he hesitated, then he risked Derek walking out of the bar and out of his life for good.
In a flourish of inspiration, Stiles reached over and plucked Isaac's notebook out of his apron.
“What the hell!” Isaac hissed sharply.
Stiles ignored him and flipped to a blank page in the book, scribbling a message on it.
“I need you to run this out to Derek.” He knew it was risky, but he had to do something. He couldn't let tall, dark and broody leave without at least trying to see if he'd be interested in seeing him again. And if he wasn't interested in a membership to the bar, then maybe Stiles could convince him to order a little something off the menu.
“Which one is Derek?” Isaac looked toward the large doors separating the dining room from the front.
“The broody one. The one who I fucked.” Stiles pushed Isaac through the curtains, pushing him out of the booth and into the dining room.
“What?” Isaac squawked indignantly, as Stiles manhandled him. “Why?”
“Later, I’ll tell you later! He’s leaving, go go go!”
Stiles shoved the slip of paper into Isaac’s hand and pushed him in the direction of the main doors, nearly pushing him into Scott who was walking to the bar. Regaining his footing, Isaac shot Stiles a glare before he turned around and hurried to the oak doors.
Scott watched Isaac before looking back to Stiles, a confused expression all over his face.
“What’s that all about?” Scott asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction Isaac had just gone.
“Nothing. A customer left something behind.” Stiles scratched the back of his neck, hoping the music and the sound of the other patrons in the dining room would disguise the way his heartbeat stuttered over the lie.
Scott watched for a moment longer and then shrugged, letting it go. He glanced down at what Stiles was wearing, noticing he was in his work robe. “Do you want me to walk you to the back?”
Dolce’s safety protocol dictated omegas were not to go anywhere on the floor without an escort, as a way to keep a track of them and make sure customers didn’t try anything that jeopardized their safety.
“No, it’s fine,” Stiles waved him on. “I’ll wait here for Isaac to come back. Thanks though.”
“Sure, dude.” Scott started walking back toward the bar, before he stopped, snapping his fingers as he remembered something and turned back toward Stiles. “Kira and I get out at midnight tonight, do you want a ride?”
Technically, Stiles was only on the schedule until midnight, but since he’d gotten there late tonight, he had a feeling he should at least offer to stay late and make up for it.
Marin was understanding, but Stiles didn’t want to push the boundaries of her tolerance.
“I was late, so I’ll probably have to stick around. I’ll let you know later.”
“Sounds good,” Scott nodded, turning around and continuing back toward the back.
Stiles stood in the middle of the walkway, feeling a little uncomfortable just standing there.
What if Isaac didn’t make it in time? What if he couldn’t find Derek on the busy New York streets?
What if Derek just crumpled up the piece of paper and left anyway, having gotten what he wanted already when he fucked Stiles on the table?
Stiles anxiously chewed on his fingernail as he waited for Isaac to come back.
*
When the oak doors finally opened again, it was Isaac who walked through, and Stiles let out a sigh in relief.
“Well?” he asked, grabbing Isaac’s arm, looking at him desperately.
“Well what?” Isaac grumbled, but lead Stiles toward the back to the employee section of the bar.
“You know well what,” Stiles hissed, pulling at Isaac’s sleeve.
The two clumsily made their way through the dining room, completely unnoticed by the other patrons. Due to how crowded the bar was tonight, and how many omegas were currently working the floor, Stiles doubted the customers would have even noticed if they walked through the room completely on fire.
Stiles muscled Isaac through the employee door, gripping his sleeve and looking at him expectantly, arching an eyebrow.
“Spill, Lahey.”
Isaac rolled his eyes and shook his arm out of Stiles’ grip, completely unfazed by Stiles’ theatrics. By now the blond beta was used to Stiles’ strange outbursts and took it all in stride.
“I gave him the paper.”
“What did he say?” Stiles tapped his foot impatiently, fighting the urge to bite his nails. The anticipation was practically driving him mad.
“He didn’t say anything,” he shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “He got in the car and left.”
"He didn't say anything?" Stiles shoulders slumped as he felt his heart sink to his stomach.
Stiles thought they had made a connection. He could have sworn there was chemistry between them. That there was something more.
But Derek didn’t want a membership and he didn’t show any interest in getting Stiles’ number, so clearly whatever Stiles thought he felt was one sided.
“He didn’t look not interested,” Isaac said hurriedly, obviously picking up on Stiles’ disappointment. “I think he was just...surprised. He seemed a little confused as to what was going on. Plus one of the other one seemed really eager to leave, so...”
Stiles nodded, trying his best to put on a neutral expression.
“Yeah, no,” Stiles said, trying not to sound too disappointed. “I totally get it.” He swallowed thickly before clearing his throat. “It’s not a big deal.”
Isaac stared at him for a moment, really taking in Stiles’ expression.
“Look,” he said, his voice softer, he reached out and patted Stiles’ forearm almost comfortingly. “Give it time, okay? If he reaches out to you, then that’s awesome. And if he doesn’t, then, whatever. He’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve you, and you at least got a great fuck out of it.”
Stiles snorted a laugh. “Thanks.”
Isaac nodded and walked away, flipping on the "Omega Waiting" light which signaled the team of betas responsible for tending to omegas who had finished with clients.
Stiles knew that no amount of soap would be able to rid him of the feeling of Derek on top of him, inside of him.
Stiles wasn't sure why, but his encounter with Derek had caused something inside of him to shift. And for the first time since Stiles started working at Dolce, a sliver of doubt crept into his mind causing him to wonder whether or not he should keep working at the bar.
*
It was several days later when Stiles had finished his last class of a very, very long day on campus.
As soon as he'd made it out of the building he pulled his phone out of his pocket, ready to send Scott a text letting him know he was heading over, when what he saw on the screen made him pause. Stiles had 18 missed calls from an unknown number.
“What the hell?”
He hit the call button, calling the number back and waiting while it rang. He didn’t know what he expected, even telemarketers didn’t call that many times.
The call connected, but instead of a greeting, someone immediately started rambling. It only took him half a second to recognize who it was.
"You’re too late, Cora. We’re at the tunnel. You’ll have to see if Laura’s left yet and get a ride with her.”
Stiles couldn't believe his ears.
"Derek?" Stiles grinned, so shocked he nearly walked right out into traffic. A taxi honked at him as he zoomed by, and Stiles decided to stop walking all together, lest he hurt himself. "Derek, it's me, Stiles!"
"Cora, I can’t hear you,” Derek continued on, not giving any indication that he’d heard Stiles. “We’re in the tunnel. I’ll see you at mom’s, okay?"
The line went dead and Stiles assumed they were in the depths of the tunnel.
He stood on the busy Manhattan street, staring at the screen in disbelief, a small smile on his face.
All the feelings he’d felt that night came back to him in a rush, and in that instant he wanted nothing more than to see Derek again.
His phone buzzed in his hand, breaking him out of his spell. He looked down to see a message from Scott.
Scott: Dude, r u coming? The party is almost starting
Stiles resumed walking thumbing out a reply as he made his way to the subway.
Me: Omw. Just got out
It had been several days since he’d given Derek his number, and he was so convinced that Derek had moved on that he had given up all hope the alpha would contact him. But Derek had finally called him. A lot, in fact.
And while Stiles was frustrated that Derek's call had dropped, he took comfort in the fact that Derek had spent the whole day trying to get a hold of him. Stiles’ heart fluttered at the thought that Derek wanted to reach him just as badly as Stiles had wanted him to call.
Derek was busy right now, but Stiles deep down in his gut that Derek would reach out after the dinner with his family.
Stiles took a risk that night at the club, and for a moment he thought it wasn’t going to pay off. But sure enough, he’d managed to hook the alpha. Even though he couldn’t exactly put into words how he knew, something inside of Stiles told him that this alpha was the one he’d been waiting his whole life to meet.
Stiles was patient. And he'd waited this long to talk to Derek, so he could wait a few hours more.
*