Mark Me Yours

It's Saturday at Dean's Grocery. The place is packed with soccer moms, their kids screaming for "those cookies" or "that cereal," and all the other poor fools whose work schedules force them to run errands on the weekend. Every available associate is on the register, managers included, and still the queues are four or more customers deep. Cashiers are having to run price and ad checks on their own, and no, your "imported free-range non-gmo cruelty free veggie-based face cream" is not 98¢ and I'll show you the shelf label because yes, that bitch really is $20 and you knew that before you got up here Karen. Rayan is stuck on a register, same as anyone else. It's always like this on Saturdays. He was sweltering, and his protective bite collar seemed to be suffocating him. The symptoms had just started, but there was no mistaking it, his heat was definitely on the way. He had about half an hour left of his shift. His heat usually took two hours or more to fully

He forgot the coffee. He went out for one thing- Scott leaned heavily on his apartment door. The mid-afternoon sun was shining brightly through the curtains of his spacious unit. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did that guy make it home okay? WAIT DID HE FORGET HIS SUPPRESSANT THIS MORNING? He hurried to his kitchen, where the package was laying on the counter, same spot as always. Let's see, today is... Crap. This could totally be his fault.  Today's pill sat in its little blister pack. Scott popped it dry and slumped against his cabinets, burying his face in his hands. No Omega in their right mind would be out in public, much less working, with their heat so close. But, if they were just close enough and an alpha happened to come by... "Well, shit," Scott whispered to himself. He certainly didn't want to leave things as is. But, Rayan had to have made it home by now, right? Should he run back to the supermarket and check? His han

Scott stirred his cup absentmindedly. "So, you're in customer service, I'm sure you've got an oddball story or two?" "Well, nothing as crazy as a potato plug, but one of my coworkers at the grocery store had a guy who was trying to be an extreme couponer." Rayan sipped from his mug. "Yeah?" "Yeah, he came through the line with a bunch of glass jars of spaghetti sauce. He had one manufacturers coupon, and a stack of black and white copies of the same coupon. Of course, we couldn't accept the photocopies and when my coworker told the guy this he dead ass flipped his cart and walked out without a word." "Wow. Really?" "Yep. Took over an hour to clean up all the glass and sauce. We had to throw away all the candy near the register, and it smelled like an Italian alleyway for a week. Complete carnage." "Oh no," Scott chuckled, "not the candy!" 

By the time the shift was over, the sun was up. Rayan was grimy, and sweaty, and tired. He was storing his safety gear in his locker when Michael literally swung his way into the room. "Hey Rayan, come to the salon with me, dude! I need my expert color-picker!" "I can't, I've got just enough time to get cleaned up before I have to be at Dean's for the opening shift." "Fuddy-duddy. You should get your hair cut for tonight." Jack came in then, not saying a word, as usual. He began putting his gear away. Rayan sighed in exasperation. "I don't want to cut my hair. Besides, if I suddenly show up with short hair it'll look like I'm trying too hard." "If I was dating a doctor, I would do everything in my power to lock that down." Jack loudly finished putting away his things, slammed his locker door, and stalked out. "Oh, Jac

Of course he was late. Rayan practically jogged from the bus stop to the salon where Michael always had his hair done. It was in a somewhat quiet part of the city, where small shops occupied the bottom floor of buildings with housing above. The bright pink "Omega Safe" sticker was proudly displayed on the door, right under the "Service Animals Welcome" sticker. It meant that the shop stocked both emergency suppressants for omegas and tranquilizers for alphas, just in case anyone went into rut or heat. It also meant that omegas were safe to remove their collars while partaking of the salon's services. Rayan paused a moment to catch his breath before entering. "Finally! You're here!" Michael exclaimed from his seat in front of the salon's generous window. The chime of the bells hanging from the door signaled his friends arrival. He had a stylist book in one hand, and his phone open to Pinterest on the other. His clothing was vibrant as usual, though since he was o