Something Like Wanting - Brendon Park
Alpha Brendon Park x Omega Reader
synopsis: Sometimes Brendon Park is a very stupid man.
warnings/notes: Omegaverse dynamics. Reader is an ortho surgery fellow. Another attending is a dick to reader. Flangst, my beloved. let me know if i missed something. First time writing Park. @thedamnqueenofhell requested this one for my One Big Bash.
wc: 3.3k
Eight weeks.
That’s how long you had been putting up with one Dr. Keith Jacobs.
You were no stranger to the prejudice and assumptions that came with you being an Omega studying to become a surgeon. You’d dealt with them in undergrad, in med school, and throughout your residency. Now you were a surgical fellow six weeks out from that attending position. Already offered and accepted here at PTMC.
Jacobs was an alphahole of the first order. Not a day went by without him taking the opportunity to make a snide comment, to attempt to tear you down. You ignored him as you had everyone who came before him and as you would everyone who came after him.
But the longer he went without getting the response he clearly wanted, the sharper and more hateful his comments became. You knew it wasn’t entirely due to your designation. No, Jacobs was here as temporary coverage, to fill the spot Dr. Simmons left with her retirement. The spot you’d been hired to fill. He undoubtedly thought if he chased you off, he could keep the job. Asshole.
Unfortunately for him, today you were tired. Exhausted really, functioning only off spite and copious amounts of caffeine. You’d been on call the last three nights. And while you’d only had to come in for one surgery, you never slept well when you knew you could be summoned at any moment. So today, you weren’t putting up with his shit.
You sat at one of the computers finishing up your notes for the surgery you’d finished fifteen minutes ago. Jacobs stood nearby chatting with one of the trauma surgeons, though his voice was pitched to carry straight to you.
“I just don’t understand why they would even give her a fellowship. Omegas are naturally better at following than leading. The designation is wired for support roles. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just interesting that PTMC is encouraging it.” He dropped his voice just a fraction but still loud enough to be heard by you and anyone else that happened to be around. “They can’t possibly think that she’ll be a successful attending.”
You stood, hands braced on the desk and stared him down. “Just because I am an Omega, doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole to me and I just take it.” You leaned closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. “Shove your designation up your ass.”
The department was silent as the few witnesses took in the both of you. Even those who hadn’t heard the entirety of what had been said, knew that it had to have been too far, too much. You were level-headed and calm in even the worst situations. It came from a lifetime of biting your tongue. Well, you were done.
Jacobs’ face turned a brilliant shade of red as he opened his mouth to respond. It snapped shut as someone said your name.
Just your name, but it was enough when it was Brendon Park saying it. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t sharp. Just that calm, even tone he used when he wasn’t busy reprimanding the med students and residents.
Your face flooded with heat. A combination of embarrassment and anger, you supposed. You turned and found him standing a short distance away. His scrubs were impeccable even though it was nearing the end of the shift. Of course, they were. Just like his hair was still gelled back with nary a strand out of place. His jaw was sharp enough to cut. His blue eyes gave nothing away as they assessed the situation.Head of the department. Alpha. And all together perfect for you, even if he’d never be yours.
He didn’t say anything else, simply tilting his head toward the hallway that led to his office and waited. Once you moved to follow, he led the way. The corridor felt longer than it had any right to be. You kept your chin up even if your hands were shaking. Jacobs might be an alpha asshole but he was still your superior. Technically. Telling him to shove anything up his ass probably wasn’t the most intelligent thing you’d ever done.
Park didn’t say a word nor did he look back to make sure you were following. His office door was open and he gestured for you to enter first. He followed and closed the door behind you. You glanced around the office, finding no changes from the last time you were here. The office was sparse but it was all him.
And here, you could detect the slightest hint of warm cedar. His scent was dampened but stronger here than anywhere else and you knew he probably changed his scent patches here when needed. You attempted to breathe shallowly, not wanting this man to get any further under your skin than he already was.
He didn’t sit behind the desk. He leaned against the front of it, arms crossed, posture casual. You realized he was trying to keep this from feeling like a disciplinary meeting and you appreciated it. Some of the tension bled from your shoulders.
“What was that about?” he asked.
You told him all of it. From the first comment about how omegas have no place in the OR to the one he’d made last week to a nurse about your scent being distracting and maybe you should consider a stronger scent patch. Then the suggestion, made twice in the last month, that you’d gotten your fellowship placement because some alpha had put in a good word to get into your nest.
As you spoke, your voice regained its steadiness and the shaking in your hands ceased. You watched his face as you spoke. His expression didn’t change but his jaw tightened, a muscle twitching under the skin. His eyes remained on yours, not looking away even once. He listened without interrupting. When you finished, you felt lighter than you had in weeks.
Park studied you for a moment. “When did this start?”
“His second day.”
His gaze narrowed slightly at that before returning to normal. “Why didn’t you report it?”
You sighed. “I didn’t want to be that omega. The one that couldn’t take a few comments from an alpha. I only have six more weeks before he’ll be gone. I thought I could ignore it.”
“You could have said something to me if you didn’t want to involve HR.” His voice had softened.
“I could have, yes.”
The silence stretched for a beat. “But you didn’t.”
“No, sir.”
He nodded just once, a short downward movement of his chin. An acknowledgement of what you’d told him.
“Finish your rounds and go home,” he said.
That was it. No platitudes. No promises. Just a dismissal.
So, you left.
When you returned for your next shift two days later, you found Jacobs’ name gone from the department board. You glanced at the wall lined with the photos of the surgical attendings. There was no longer a picture of Jacobs smirking from the end of the row. It was if he’d never been there at all. The corners of your lips curled up into a smile.
Park was already at the nurses’ station when you arrived, reviewing his charts for that day’s surgeries. He didn’t look up when you approached. When you said good morning, he responded with nothing more than a short nod, his eyes meeting yours for half a second before returning to the chart.
Gratitude washed through you. Park had handled it. He hadn’t questioned your sincerity, hadn’t taken an alpha’s word over yours. He’d simply assessed the problem and took care of it. And that feeling you’d been shoving down for months welled up. The feeling you got whenever you watched him operate, when you took in the set of his broad shoulders, when he approved of your work with a simple ‘good.’
You were six weeks from being his colleague instead of his fellow. Six weeks from the hierarchy between you becoming something simpler. You had promised yourself you would wait.
That evening you broke that promise.
You decided on brownies. Something that would keep for a couple of days without refrigeration. That he could take a bite of when he had a moment. But you didn’t make the quick ones you could throw together without a second thought. No, these were a layered concoction that were rich without being too sweet. Dark chocolate and raspberry and cream cheese.
The apartment filled with the rich aroma. Once they’d cooled you packaged them carefully in a glass container. You stuck a note to the lid. A simple Thank you for believing me followed by your name. You resisted the urge to add a little heart after it.
You rested your palm against the lid and took a deep breath. An omega bringing food to an alpha was not a casual act of gratitude. It carried weight. It was a courting gesture. It was the kind of thing that said, I value you, I appreciate you, you’re worth me spending my time on. You knew what you were doing. Had known as soon as he asked for no accolades for his actions that were going to do it.
The next morning you arrived an hour early for your shift. Even Park didn’t arrive that early. You set the container on his desk, carefully in the center where he would see it first thing. Then you left, your heart in your throat, and went to prepare for your day.
Brendon found the container just before 6:30. He always arrived a half an hour early for his shift, wanting a chance to review the day’s OR schedule. He paused, setting down his bag, eyes on the container and your familiar scrawl. His brow furrowed as he read the note. Of course he believed you. Why would he do otherwise?
He’d worked with you for years. Watched you grow from a shy resident into a competent, confident surgeon. Jacobs was just some asshole filling a spot that was rightfully yours.
He lifted the lid. The deep, rich aroma of good chocolate flooded his senses, his mouth instantly watering. A pulse of possessive warmth started low in his belly and spread outward, making the hair on his arms stand up. His scent changed before he could stop it, the cedar deepening mixing with the underlying spicy smell of a pleased alpha.
He stood very still for a moment and let himself feel it.
Then he shut it down. Hard.
The last thing you needed was an alpha reading too much into a thank you. You had just spent weeks being insulted and humiliated on a daily basis by another alpha. You didn’t deserve the unwanted attentions of another.
If he ate this food, if he accepted this gesture, he would not be able to maintain the distance he’d built between you shift by shift. He closed the container, carried it to the breakroom and left it on the table. Then he went back to his office, closed the door and did not come out for twenty minutes.
You found it when you stopped by to get a cup of coffee between procedures. Your glass container, still half full of brownies sitting on the table. Crumbs littered the area around it.
You stood just inside the doorway of the empty breakroom and took a deep breath. Then another. Then you picked up the container and carried it to your locker. That night when you got home, you threw the whole thing in the garbage. Then you walked away.
As the days passed, you changed. You knew it but didn’t care enough to correct it. You spoke less in rounds. You kept your eyes anywhere but on Park when he was speaking. You stopped lingering at the nurses’ station to talk to him after your work was finished or between procedures. It was the only thing you knew to do. He had made his position clear and you weren’t going to push when you weren’t wanted.
Park changed too. His interactions with you became shorter, the tone more formal. Not cold, never that, but careful in a way he hadn’t been before. He stopped standing quite as close to you in the OR. Quit making small talk.
The distance between you grew enough that it was noted by others in the department. It was brought up to you exactly once and your cold dismissal was enough to keep them from asking again. No one was brave enough to broach the topic with Park.
It was fine, you told yourself, meaning it less with each passing day.
The shift was a brutal one.
You’d nearly lost a patient on the table. A tib-fib fracture that shifted, nicking the artery. For the longest ninety seconds of your life, the blood had come faster than you could clamp it. Your hands remained steady through all of it. As you found the bleed, as you repaired it, finished the surgery and closed. The patient was stable and in recovery now.
Your hands waited until after to shake. You stood at the sink, too hot water running over your trembling fingers. You pressed your forehead against the cool tile and breathed. Once you were more certain of yourself, sure the anxiety had ebbed enough to not be read on your face, you headed back to work.
At the end of the day, you were still carrying it there in the middle of your chest. As you passed the nurses’ station on your way out you heard the distinct sound of Park’s laugh.
Not the short exhale he gave when he found something mildly amusing. No, this was a real laugh. Low and easy, the way you’d only heard a handful of times. You stopped walking without meaning to, eyes searching him out.
He stood nearby with one of the floor nurses. Cindy, a pretty unmated omega that made residents trip over their own feet when she graced them with a smile. She had her hand on Park’s arm as she smiled up at him. And he let her. He stood there in his stupid purple scrubs with his stupid perfect hair while his eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed at something another omega had said.
He didn’t move her hand.
You kept walking and didn’t look back again. You swiped your badge to clock out then got on the elevator to head to the parking garage. You pushed through the doors to your level. You did not let yourself think about it until you were sitting in the driver’s seat of your car, engine off. The world mostly quiet around you.
And oh gods that hurt. It was one thing to know he didn’t want you. Another entirely to discover he wanted someone else. You sucked in a shaky breath as your fingers scrabbled to get a purchase on the scent patch on your wrist. First your left, then the right, ignoring the sharp pull of the adhesive against your skin.
You tossed them into the trash you kept on the passenger side of your car. Then you removed the larger one on your neck, at the junction of your throat and shoulder. The one that did the most work. Your omega scent began to bleed back into the air around you. The feeling of relief was immediate as your muscles loosened.
You braced your hands on the steering wheel and dropped your forehead to rest against them. You closed your eyes. And you cried.
Quiet sobs filled your car as your shoulders shook with the action. You were exhausted. You’d been holding onto everything so tightly. Pretending the rejection of the only alpha you’d ever really wanted hadn’t affected you in the least. Pretending you could keep things professional. That you could work with him every day without it tearing you up inside.
Your body had finally reached its limit and broke. Tears warmed your cheeks and dripped onto the wheel. You didn’t try to stop them. You could fall apart here in the quiet of the parking garage. Gods knew you wouldn’t be the first person to break in employee parking. You just needed to let it out, then you could pull yourself together and drive home. No one would ever know.
You barely registered the yank of your car door opening. Then hands were on your shoulders, turning you and pulling you out of the seat before you could even fully process what was happening. And then you were against his chest.
For a moment you panicked until that warm cedar scent flooded your nose. Brendon. His arms went around you, one hand resting on your back, the other cradling your head. His touch was gentle, grounding and…not meant for you.
You pushed against him, putting distance between you, minimal as it may be. His hands shifted to hold onto your upper arms.
His gaze raked over you, looking for injury maybe. “Who made you cry?” His voice was rough, urgent. “Tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
You shook your head and huffed in disbelief. You had cried so many times over this man. This alpha that wasn’t yours. “It was you, Brendon. It’s always been you.”
His hands stayed on you but he went still. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, quietly, “Me? What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it.”
“You can’t fix it. Sometimes things just hurt and you can’t fix them,” you insisted then sucked in a bracing breath. “You’re allowed to not want me, Brendon, but it will take me a while to get over your rejection. It’s just how it is. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”
His brow furrowed. “Rejection?”
Maybe he wasn’t as smart as you thought he was. “You left my gift on the breakroom table for everyone to eat. That usually counts as a rejection, yes.”
He stared at you, eyes wide with something that looked like panic. “The brownies. You were courting me?”
You blinked. “What did you think I was doing?”
“Saying thank you.” His voice was so quiet you barely heard him.
“Brendon Park.” His name dripped with disbelief as it rolled off your tongue. This stupid, idiot alpha. But just because he didn’t understand, didn’t mean he suddenly wanted you. You opened your mouth to say something else but he interrupted by cradling your face in both of his hands.
His thumbs brushed across your cheekbones. His eyes were dark, blue almost swallowed by his pupils. His scent grew warmer, headier with contentment and something that felt like want.
“I’m sorry, Omega.” His voice was low and rough. “We can discuss what an idiot I am later, but right now I need to kiss you. You smell divine and it’s making my head swim.”
And then he did.
His mouth was warm and softer than you’d imagined. And you had imagined it. So many times. His hands slid from your face to the back of your neck and he kissed you like he’d been thinking about it for as long as you had. Perhaps that careful distance he’d maintained between you had cost him something too.
You kissed him back. Your hands found his chest, clutching onto his scrubs to pull him closer. He chuckled against your lips. The world around you disappeared until all that was left was his mouth on yours and his scent in your lungs.
When he pulled back, his breathing was uneven. His forehead rested against yours, his thumbs still tracing your skin. “Five weeks until you’re an attending. I can wait five weeks.”
You laughed, the sound bright and relieved. “I couldn’t.” You closed your eyes and just enjoyed the moment before you pulled back to look at him. “I don’t want to wait, Brendon. I’ve been waiting. I already have the position. We can be discrete but don’t make me wait.” When he didn’t immediately respond, you added, “Please, alpha.”
His mouth curved. “Whatever my omega wants.”
Then he kissed you again.
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