“If you don’t want to get pregnant and you’re happy being a single omega,” Raven asked, “why did you download Seeking Alpha?”
“Shut up,” Erik said absently, scrolling through his day’s matches. Nothing interesting today either, nothing at all.
Raven snorted. “Good morning to you too.” She sipped her black coffee. “Why don’t you want to get pregnant? Do you not want kids at all, or—” Trust Raven to take up this line of questioning in a busy coffee shop. Her blue form drew some attention, but Erik didn’t care about that—on the contrary, he was proud to be seen with a visible mutant. But it wasn’t entirely necessary for her to dissect his personal life in public, just because Erik had just moved here and they were now neighbors, doing some planning for mutant rights protests.
“I have kids, actually,” Erik said. “If you must know. I impregnated my ex-wife, Magda.”
Raven was staring at him in amazement. “I’ve heard of that happening, but… wow.”
“Some omegas have viable sperm, yes. Which I found out after she told me she was pregnant.” Erik looked up at Raven as he set aside his phone, having given up on Seeking Alpha for the time being. “I have twins, actually. A boy and a girl. They live across the country with Magda.”
Raven blinked. “So you’re an omega with super sperm but without birthing hips.”
“So it would seem.”
“I mean, no offense, but do you really think there are a lot of alphas out there looking for that?”
“No offense taken,” Erik said dryly. “And I won’t know unless I look.”
“Ever considered a beta?”
“For a long-term mate? No.” Erik gave her such a withering look she scoffed and drank some more coffee.
But soon enough, she went back to questioning. “So why were you married to Magda, if she was another omega?”
“Because neither of us wanted to get pregnant at the time,” Erik said, wry. “And we were in love, I suppose. Although that didn’t really last.”
“So, what, your very soul cries out for an alpha now?” Raven laughed, not meanly, but Erik was still a bit annoyed. “Have you ever slept with an alpha?” she added. She was, in fact, an alpha herself, a rare female one. As much as Erik admired her—and he did—the possibility of a bond or just sex didn’t feel quite right between them, and besides, for whatever reason, Raven had made no move toward him when they’d first met and she’d learned what he was. “I mean, I’d take you back to my place if I wasn’t afraid you’d impregnate me with your super sperm,” she joked.
“That’s highly unlikely.”
“What, you coming back with me or you impregnating me?”
“Oh darn. Well, best of luck finding your alpha. Gotta say, though, you might find it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. The scenting, the possessiveness, the heats—and okay, from the look on your face you’re turned on right now.” She drank the last of her coffee and stood up. “I’ll let you get back to your app.”
As he watched her go, Erik realized he hadn’t actually answered her question. No, he had not slept with an alpha, not that he hadn’t had them after him. Erik was extraordinarily choosy as well as being good at self-defense, and so had been able to ward off with great decisiveness the aggressive come-ons of unsuitable alphas. No, Erik was, in a sense, saving himself. He’d fucked a few other omegas, impregnated one, and had a few one-night stands with betas, usually men. Sometimes he fucked them, sometimes they fucked him. Scratching an itch, but even he had to admit the itch didn’t really go away. It was, in fact, really starting to bother him. He just needed a suitable alpha, a real bond. Hence, the app. Assuming there was anyone truly suitable out there.
He increased the search area in the app and lost another half-hour scrolling through.
“You could go on Seeking Alpha,” Hank suggested.
Charles looked at him, and Hank blushed and adjusted his glasses.
“I could,” Charles agreed slowly, “but that doesn’t solve the issues presented by my mutation and my wheelchair.”
“No, but it allows you access to a wider pool, doesn’t it? Increases the odds.”
“I suppose.” Charles felt it was ethical to disclose that he had telepathic abilities to his omega potential dates, but this usually resulted in two outcomes: the date being terrified, or the date being so turned on at the thought of Charles’ possible absolute power over him or her that Charles felt fetishized. Something similar happened when dates were confronted with the reality of his wheelchair: either discomfort and awkwardness or an overly keen interest. All Charles wanted was a little balance. He was an admitted flirt, and he had his share of shallow relationships, but he wanted an omega to bond with, and so far these two major aspects of who he was were nothing but strikes against him.
The thing was, too, Charles couldn't reliably knot anymore.
In his youth, he’d done it, before the accident—he'd knotted quite a few pretty young omegas who’d sobbed for more, all on birth control of course, none of them truly bonding with him either—but now it seemed he’d lost his chance for a solid alpha-omega bond. Very few if any omegas would be interested in getting involved with an alpha who needed Viagra to get it up and SurelyKnot to even consider knotting them. And it was impossible for him to mount someone without the use of his legs. Someone could ride him, of course, but it was generally held that omegas didn’t truly feel mated that way.
All that said, when it came to his personality and the core of his being, Charles was still an alpha, and he still felt the need for an omega. For that matter, he was of the opinion he would make an excellent father, either to his own children or as a stepfather. It was not very likely, however, that he’d sire his own children, simply because the accident had changed the way the plumbing worked. It was possible, but would require a lot of medical assistance. Most omegas would find it easier, if they wanted to be pregnant, to simply find another alpha.
Still, he felt he had to try, and see who came to him.
Hank had returned to his research, so when Charles said “Right, let’s do it” he looked up, startled.
“Sign me up for Seeking Alpha. Come on, Hank, get a picture of me,” he said, rolling back from his desk. Charles paused a moment, considering. “Without the chair in it,” he decided.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, not including the chair?” Hank asked, standing and getting his camera.
“Not at all sure, but let’s try it,” he said. Someone truly interested in his profile wouldn't care if he were in a wheelchair or not… right?