You're Rubbing Me Wrong
“Why, Charles?”
The professor sighed, remarkably patient even though Scott had just burst in without warning. “Why what, Scott?”
“Why did you put him on my team?” The Beta in him was pacing in ever-tightening circles, torn between enjoying the opportunity to bask in the presence of a powerful Alpha, and resenting the power-struggle sure to come.
“He could be a valuable asset. He knows how to fight, and to fight well. If you are worrying about his motivations, I can assure you that he has no more love for Stryker or the Brotherhood as you do.”
Scott grits his teeth. “That may be, may, but what about the hierarchy? What about the upheaval that adding a member will do to the team dynamics? It would be a nightmare!”
That gets him a penetrating look. “No more so than when Kurt was added.”
“Kurt’s different! He follows orders, he’s reliable, he’s –”
“A Beta?” That brings Scott up short. “Well, yes, but the entire situation is different.” He adds weakly, suddenly horribly aware that he’s acting childishly.
“Scott, you must trust that my actions are entirely for the benefit of this school as they have always been in the past and will be so in the future. I would not bring Logan into the fold if I did not have utmost confidence in his character.”
Unable to stop himself, he throws out an immature barb. “Is this because your Omega nature is overruling your reason for a high-level Alpha?”
“Scott.” The very real anger is very much deserved.
“Sorry.” He lifts his chin up to bare his throat slightly for his pack leader, enough to convey apology.
“If you do not trust my judgement, then I would ask you to trust your own. Let him in on a few training sessions, talk to him before you make any decisions. I will not force him on any missions without your approval. But mark my words, Logan has the makings of a fine X-Man and I will not let you squander his abilities because of petty squabbles.”
Privately, he thinks it’s not a petty squabble, but he crushes that thought before the professor can pick up on it. “Fine. I’ll do a trial run. But if he can’t listen to me or if he hurts anyone, he’s off the team.” Scott also wonders if he’s just made a terrible mistake, promising that, but Charles’ approval washes away some of the mistrust. After all, Logan would probably mess up and then Scott would be able to kick him out without much fuss.
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The first training session Scott lets him into, Logan goes off the rails, growls at direct orders, and manages to piss all over Scott’s wavering resolve to allow him a fair chance. When he says as much, he gets a middle finger as the dick walks away. That makes him want to have Kurt teleport him into the middle of an active volcano and switch the badly-hidden beer stashes with machine oil.
“If you’re going to be on my team, you’re going to have to follow my rules and work with your teammates.”
“I’m not much of a team-player, Slim. How ‘bout you factor that into yer precious rules?”
Scott’s seeing red and not because of his visor, but manages to keep his voice icy and calm in a way that’s patently infuriating. “Charles has faith in your ability to choke down your ego and make a difference, for once in your self-centered life. Are you saying that he’s wrong? Are you saying that you can’t handle a little group dynamics? Or are you just not brave enough to fight for our kind?”
The air immediately fills with Alpha pheromones specifically generated to force him to submit. The Beta in him quails, but the Scott in him remembers all the other Alphas he’s faced and forced into obedience. Being a team leader comes with challenges, especially for a Beta who can’t glare people into submission like an Alpha and can’t charm them like an Omega. He refuses to back away, or let his arms down from where they’re crossed on his chest, or tilt his head up – even as Logan stalks forward, growling.
“I ain’t no coward.” The claws are out, but Scott doesn’t flinch away.
“Then prove it.” That earns him a snarl and another beating of scent as the Alpha leaves in a huff.
The Beta in him can’t help but feel smug that he’d beaten down such a high-leveled Alpha with minimal fuss and no swung fists. The Scott in him can’t help but feel like this is going to be a difficult battle ahead.
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It’s almost two weeks later, and they’re still snarling at each other. Two weeks, and then Scott realizes why he dislikes the bastard so much.
It happens after dinner. Bobby had accidentally frozen Storm’s glass, so she’d rained on his sandwich. He was still remembering the playful bickering when he went to the Danger Room for a practice bout. As it turned out, the room was occupied, though everyone knew his schedule by now.
And, of course, it had to be the Alpha in there. Scott had stood at the observation deck, watching. The man moved like a prowling animal, all grace and intimidation. Muscles rippled and claws ripped through targets like cobwebs. The man was danger personified, smooth and powerful and sleek and far too watchable. The man was panting harshly and sweating in the fitted uniform, his mouth open and snarling. It was a few minutes later that he realized he hadn’t kicked out the Alpha, and instead was staring like a besotted teenage Omega. He also realized that his Beta was rumbling hungrily and running warm under his skin.
Oh, hell no.
Nope. Nu-uh. No. Just no. That was about the worst idea his Beta had come up with since the briefly lived crush on Mystique. And, worst of all, it made sense as to why Scott was so on edge around the Alpha. Goddamn gender dynamics.
But, his eyes still couldn’t stop tracking the motions of the Alpha, couldn’t stop admiring the gleam of metal claws. He shuddered, a little disgusted and a little turned on. When he realized that, he shook himself and repressed the whole thing, tamping it deep down, deep down, where he wouldn’t have to examine it too closely ever again.
Of course, Jean found it later and laughed at him.
“It’s perfectly natural, Scott.” She said. “I’m not immune to the call of an Alpha either.”
“Yeah, well, you’re an Omega. Besides, he’s –”
“Handsome. Muscular. Dangerous. Rough. Wild. Canadian.”
He blinks at her, momentarily sidetracked by what he hopes isn’t jealousy. “How do you know he’s Canadian?”
She shrugs, eyes dancing merrily at his discomfort. “I talk to him, something you should try sometime. He’s getting some memories back, and found out he’s from Canada. He flirts with me and I flirt back. It’s all in good fun.”
“He flirts with you?” Scott really tries not to sound possessive, but he’s too riled up about an Alpha sniffing around what’s his.
“It doesn’t mean anything. He flirts with everyone, even Charles. Rogue’s got a crush on him and he’s done nothing about either of us. Besides, Scott, I can flirt with anyone I want without your permission.”
“I know that!” Of course he does! He’s not a traditionalist who wants Omegas kept in the bedroom or kitchen.
“Do you? Because you’ve been acting like you’re clinging to stereotypes recently. You seem to dislike Logan just because he’s an Alpha, you thought that Charles only let him on the team because he’s a weak Omega, you just questioned my right to pick my mate, and you puff up around him like he’s trying to edge in on your territory when he’s really just joining the pack!” Her hair’s whipping around her head, and he imagines he sees the lights flicker. “You need to get your head out of your self-justifying ass before it gets stuck there or someone gets creative with superglue!”
She leaves him behind, slamming the door harshly. He plays with his glasses, wishing he could blast away parts of himself with red sweeps of light.