Chapter Text
Ill-advised as Dick’s arrangement with Slade is, it works splendidly. Many of the alphas who professed interest in Dick had already withdrawn, choosing to focus their efforts on omegas with whom they have a better chance.
Unfortunately, that means that those who are left are the kind of people Bruce has always told him to avoid. But still, it’s all fine in Dick’s books if it means that they will not be hounding Jason. In any case, all can be endured so long as she is not in London and cannot bother Dick any longer.
Having Slade playing the part of his suitor also has an unintended upside. With the other alphas, Dick has to pretend to be receptive to their wooing of him, or at least not rebuff them directly. Since all of Dick’s cards already on the table, he doesn’t have to maintain a mask when he’s with Slade. He can just be, and it’s a blessing. Slade has become a sanctuary he can retreat to when the act becomes too much, a calm and safe bay in a terrible storm.
With Slade, Dick is awarded the luxury of getting to know someone without the weight of expectations said and unsaid, doesn’t have to guard against whatever desires he might have.
This is evidenced by the courting gifts that kept coming at regular intervals, all of them weapons that Dick could hide on his person in plain sight. A fan with a mechanism that extends blades from its ribs, a signet ring with a poisoned needle within, ear studs that become excellent projectiles so long as he practises to master the movement to launch them. Dick makes sure he has at least one of these gifts whenever he leaves the manor now. And it’s not just for his safety that he does so. The gifts bring him a sense of warmth and comfort, the very same feelings that the bloom at the thought of Slade himself.
And he listens.
Whoever has been guiding the Wilsons when it comes to Rose’s wardrobe is either malicious or last checked in with fashion trends a hundred years ago. Determined to give the girl a fighting chance among the sharks of the ton, Dick had decided to take Rose shopping.
So, he’d gone to talk to Slade about it.
He hadn’t thought too much about how it might sound, though, to go up to Slade and say, “I need to talk to you about something.” In all honesty, Dick didn’t even think that he tone was very serious. Yet, Slade devoted his full attention to the proceedings, sitting Dick down and keeping his eyes on him the entire time. It had made Dick’s heart feel fluttery for some reason.
Sometimes, though, Dick does think that Slade could put a little less stock in what Dick says. There is merit even in doing things one doesn’t like, insufferable as it can be. That might as well be the whole point of socialising with the peerage.
“Honestly, Slade. We can’t just leave this tournament. I’m winning!” Even though he’s bored to tears, would quite literally rather be anywhere else, and is lying through his teeth, he knows it’s a bad idea for any of them to leave, and that includes his own family.
Just because Dick once shared with Slade that the croquet tournament the royal family holds annually is a royal pain in the behind doesn’t mean they should try sneaking away from it!
When it’s next Dick’s turn, Slade comes up to him and angles his head down a little. Dick thinks maybe Slade intends to wish him good luck, but the slight quirk of his mouth warns Dick to be wary.
“You realise that, if you aim for the king’s head instead, we can all leave early.”
Dick can’t help but snort. “I think what you’re suggesting is better termed treason.”
Leaving Slade and his dark chuckle, Dick makes his shot. He spends the next half hour resolutely trying to ignore Slade, but it’s a task that is nearly Herculean. It’s as if Dick’s eyes are magnets, seeking out the metal of Slade’s countenance. Dick doubles down by moving over to chat with his other suitors—as that is only fair—but he finds their conversation even more tiresome than the tournament.
At the same time, he finds himself distracted by the hope that Slade becomes jealous of the time he spends with these other alphas. When he realises the direction of his thoughts, he’s horrified. After what happened, he never imagined that he would ever trust another alpha again, much less… feel the way he feels, for Slade.
This epiphany should, by all means, inspire fear in him. Forbearance, control. He is an omega of high standing, after all. It will not do well for him to go pursuing an alpha.
Even so, he cannot help but meander closer to Slade, who looks at him in that special, soft way he has never seen the alpha use with anyone else.
Clarity is so potent, capable of changing so much without so much as a hint as to what’s happened. Has Slade always smelled this good? It enthralls Dick as soon as he gets close enough that he can pick up the alpha’s scent.
He becomes abruptly nervous. Will Slade be able to tell that Dick has feelings for him? Will he despise Dick for it, especially considering that Dick promised their courtship would only be a ruse? Dick’s face burns even as despair threatens to overtake him. Could Slade ever feel the same way about him?
Dick wants to think so, is buoyed by the hope that Slade’s care for him, his kindness, is earnest and comes from a place of true affection. Dick will simply have to ask. Never before has he shied away from what needs to be done. He won’t this time, either. Not when it’s so important.
Resolving to do just that, Dick has just opened his mouth to speak when a hand clamps around his right forearm like a vise. His vision goes fuzzy, and he feels like he’s trying to breathe underwater.
“Dick, watch out!” he hears Slade call distantly.
But he’s already gone.
Just like that, he’s back to that evening years ago, the one he can’t quite remember but can never forget. He doesn’t recall many details, but the flash of a memory now grips him, coming through clear as day.
Her hand around his bicep, dragging him away from the party with its laughing guests and clinking glasses. Him groggily asking where they were going. Her pleased look as she said, “Somewhere private, omega. Somewhere I can do whatever I like to you, and you’re going to like it.”
Tears spring to his eyes, and Dick squeezes them shut to ward away the sting. When he thinks he can bear to face the world again, what greets him is the sight of his brothers and father around him, their faces etched with worry.
They’re outside, with lush greenery all around them. The royal gardens.
The croquet tournament, the revelation he had, Slade’s warning cry. He’s still not sure what happened, the images all muddled in his head. Had he fainted?
“Chum,” Bruce says softly. “Are you alright? How do you feel?”
Dick isn’t; he is still shaken and feels like he might shatter at the slightest touch. Thankfully, no one reaches out to make contact.
Forcing a smile onto his face, he tries to reassure his family. “I feel fine. The shock must have gotten to me.” Whatever the shock was, it’s clear something had prompted his reaction. “I’m afraid my mind is a little fuzzy, though. What happened?”
“Someone hit their croquet ball a little too hard,” Tim explains. “It was flying right in your direction. General Wilson pulled you away, and you just… shut down.”
Dick looks towards Jason, his gaze desperately pleading, as he tries to ask without words whether he’s let anything slip. Jason must understand, because he shakes his head imperceptibly.
Thank goodness for his brother, who understands and can be relied on to keep his secrets.
“General Wilson helped you to one side and came to us when he noticed you weren’t responding. He’s been helping to keep everyone else away since.”
How chivalrous. At this juncture, Dick is more than certain of his appraisal of Slade as a gentleman, an exemplary alpha. It was himself that he had misjudged.
Dick is an omega damaged, broken, ruined. Whatever aspirations he has of making a good match and being mated are folly, daydreams meant for a younger and more innocent person. Dick has long ago lost his chance, robbed of it by someone who purported to love him.
Slade is too good for him by far, he knows that now. He needs to end this before it begins, uproot his naïve ideas that he could ever deserve a happy ending. Let Slade be free to pursue someone better than him.
“I must thank him.” Dick levers himself upright, waving away his family’s offers of help. He will allow himself one last interaction with Slade, try to communicate how much Slade’s help meant to him, as well as how much he’s enjoyed Slade’s company. And then, he will say goodbye.
###
The very next day, Roy proposes to Jason, and a party is swiftly thrown together to celebrate the occasion.
Dick spends the afternoon writing formal rejection letters, thanking all his suitors over the season for their interest but ultimately turning them down. It will ruffle some feathers, since they are only halfway through the season, but Dick is exhausted. He can feel it in his bones that he will not be able to survive any more of this pretending, especially when he won’t have Slade to retreat to when he needs a moment of peace.
When he gets to the letter for Slade, Dick stalls. He can barely write out the alpha’s name before he is crying, his soul keening for someone he knows he cannot have. In the end, he has Jason do it for him, and Jason even has to seal the letter for him, as the mere thought of pressing his ring into the wax makes him ache.
It takes a long time to compose himself again, and then he has to attend Jason and Roy’s engagement party.
There is toast after toast, but Dick is careful not to drink too much, defensive over the glass in his hand so that it is not tampered with. Luckily, though, none of his spurned suitors even come close to him.
Except Slade.
The alpha approaches tentatively, as if worried that his presence would be unwelcome. Dick mourns the easy back-and-forth he’s had with Slade from the start, now strained by Dick’s rejection of him.
Or perhaps Dick is conceited for thinking that. As much as he wants to believe that there is more than just a transaction between them, that was the basis of their relationship from the start. It is more than likely that Slade is glad to be rid of him and the tedious role that Dick strong-armed him to play.
“Could I speak with you?” Slade asks.
Dick knows that he shouldn’t agree, but he finds it impossible to say no. He is like a man dying of thirst, and Slade is an oasis.
“Certainly,” he answers, but the smile on his face is brittle.
Dick leads them away from the ballroom, out of Queen manor to a garden bench. Should the conversation turn sour, Dick is prepared to sprint into the hedgemaze nearby, the one he’s knows like the back of his hand from a childhood spent exploring it with Roy and other friends.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Do forgive me for being forward,” Slade begins with uncommon cautiousness. “But over the course of our acquaintance, I have gotten the impression that there was something growing between us, regardless of why we started this courtship.”
This is what Dick wanted to hear and, had Slade shared his feelings earlier, Dick would have been ecstatic. Now, though, he is grateful for all that transpired at the croquet tournament, even if he’d scared his family. Dick does not want Slade to cast his lot with Dick’s, not when nothing good will ever come of it. He cannot give Slade what he deserves.
Dick glances away, unable to face Slade head on when he’s so filled with shame. He hates her ever more for it, and whatever aspect of himself that made her decide to choose him.
“If anyone is at fault, it is I, General Wilson.” Dick swallows, the words like daggers in his throat. “I am sorry for having misled you. Truly, I do appreciate what you have done for me, but there is no need for it anymore. Jason is happily engaged.”
“And I am glad for his happiness,” Slade drawls. Dick can almost taste his frustration in the air. “But what of yours, Dick? I understand that I am not an ideal alpha, especially for one of your standing, but I rather felt that you found my company agreeable.”
“No!” Dick blurts out, anxiety winning out against restraint. “You have been nothing but kind and considerate to me, and I will not soon forget our time together. You have proved that you are an honorable alpha, and anyone would be lucky to be your mate.”
Dick knows that he is contradicting himself, that he has brought forward no reasonable justification for his rejection. But there is nothing else that he knows to say. He cannot lie and say that he does not hold affection for Slade, but nor can he tell the truth and give away the true reason for his insistance. No, that would bring shame upon his entire family.
“Please, Slade,” he begs. “Leave it alone. I cannot be what you want.”
The look on Slade’s face is thunderous. By all means, it should terrify Dick and make him fear for his life, but within that storm he can also read sadness. Much as he would like to deny it, much as it also brings him joy, he can see that Slade isn’t accepting his excuses.
Slade takes a singular step closer and reaches a hand out. He doesn’t touch, not until Dick leans forward to place his own face in Slade’s hold, caressing gently and tracing his thumb over Dick’s cheekbone.
Dick shivers and wonders how much more intoxicating the contact would feel without the layer of Slade’s gloves in the way.
“I do not claim to understand your reasons or why you deny yourself so.” A grimace twists Slade’s face. “And I am not so noble as you describe. But you have made your wishes clear and I will respect them. Should you ever change your mind, I will be here, waiting.”
Slade takes Dick’s hand and places a kiss on the back of it. Then, he is gone.