PART 2 of: ALPHA HARRY/BETA YN COWORKERS (Patreon)

HIIIIII :D YOU GUYS LIKED THIS ONE SO HERE'S A PART 2!! I KIND OF WANT TO MAKE IT A FULL-BLOWN FIC, BUT LET ME KNOW

part 1

(2.3k+ words)

ii.

Harry doesn’t call her. 

She isn’t surprised. The moment she’d offered her help, Y/N knew that it was a blind shot in the dark – Harry just admitted that he liked her scent, and that took a year of her thinking he hated her. For him to admit needing or wanting help from her during his rut would probably take 2-3 years. That is, if he started looking in her direction again after this entire debacle. 

There was a week of silence. Harry rode out his rut at home while the rest of them continued coming to work and Y/N pretended that she wasn’t thinking about his swollen knot every second of every day. Despite his not speaking most of the time, it seems far quieter in her little cubby than it ever was with him there. She even finds herself missing his grumbles and barely there responses when Y/N comments on something that popped up, or forces him to tell her what he wants from the vending machine because she won’t leave until he does. 

Y/N doesn’t have his number, so it isn’t like she could message or call him to check in. He has her number because Y/N is a good cubby mate and gave it to him a long time ago, but he just never seemed to return the favor. Probably for the best, honestly. With how she’d been feeling after the other day, she would’ve definitely called him that night and begged him to let her help, or something annoying and embarrassing. This way, she was just forced to sit with her thoughts and her memories, desperately trying to dissect what he meant when he said all of those things to her. 

Her biggest question was whether he was telling the truth or if this was just some rut-driven admission that really didn’t mean anything. Could she really trust what a rutting alpha was saying when it was so far off from how he usually acts around her? Maybe he was further gone than she originally thought? Maybe he was exhausted, a little loopy from the fever of it, and confused her for someone else? She doesn’t know. . .she still thinks he might have been mixing her scent up with an omega nearby. It would just make more sense. 

It’s not like it’s unheard of for an Alpha to enjoy a Beta’s scent, but it’s definitely uncommon for that to allegedly throw that Alpha into rut. And it isn’t like Y/N is having a late or second presentation either; according to everyone else, her scent remains unchanged. It’s no sweeter than it typically is, nor is it more intense. But Harry accused her of walking around, smelling like she was ready to be bred – surely, he wasn’t actually smelling her. Her scent blockers are pretty good anyway; she should have told him that, and then they could have cleared all of this up. 

But she didn’t tell him that. She didn’t do anything but scent him and offer her help because he smelled good enough to eat whole, and her brain couldn’t supply her with any snappy comebacks or anything. 

Harry returns to work the following week, on a Tuesday. Y/N walked in with Niall, balancing a coffee and a muffin in her hands, when she rounded the corner and saw Harry at his desk. Her eyes widened, and Niall pinched her hip subtly until she looked at him. Niall didn’t know what exactly happened between them, but he smelled Harry’s rut on her even after she scrubbed herself in the bathroom afterward, so he came to his own conclusions. 

(“Whenever you can tell me what exactly happened, I’ll be waiting, because I have to know. I’ve got some guesses, but I feel like it’s even better than that.”)

Y/N tried to be very normal when she walked up to their cubicle, setting her things down on the table and clearing her throat before greeting him as she always does. “Hi, Harry.” She hopes that there is some levity in her voice, as there usually is: “Did you sleep well last night?” 

What Y/N usually gets in return is a grunt, maybe a mumble or a grumble about “Well enough,” or something of the sort. She really doesn’t expect much. If anything, she expects Harry to return so painfully normal that she started to wonder if she hallucinated the entire interaction or not. By no means does she think this will bring them closer, even though she could seriously not stop thinking about digging her nose into his throat and huffing him the first chance she got. Even though all she’d been able to think about was if he had let her help him that day in the supply closet, how he would have acted, if he would’ve knotted her hand, if he would have bitten her somewhere to satiate the overwhelming and intense desire to mark and claim. Y/N would have let him bite her shoulder to stave off that hunger and need. She wouldn’t have minded if it had pierced the skin or anything either. 

“I slept well.” His voice is measured and calm, and Y/N is so startled by the response that she almost gasps out of shock and drops her muffin on the floor. “How did you sleep?” A follow-up question, too? Was she dreaming? 

“Oh!” She flopped down into her chair and twisted around to find Harry was facing away from her. “Um, I – very good. I slept very well.” 

He nodded. That was that. Y/N doesn’t think he’s ever said more than two words to her this early in the morning. She’s more than a little shocked, but she’s trying her best not to convey that too much so she doesn’t like. . .scare him off or something. Y/N quietly drinks her latte and eats her muffin while she waits for her computer to boot up, a prickle on the back of her neck like someone might be looking at her, but when she slightly spins in her chair to see if Harry is looking at her, his gaze is cast down on the sheet he is writing on. 

The whole day was like that. . .just weird. They weren’t speaking through the day by any means; Harry did not suddenly develop the “yapper” gene over the past week. But for him, he was quite chatty. He tells her to have a good lunch when she and Niall head out to go get the rice bowls they’d set a pickup time for. And when she came back, he saw her leftover drink and asked her if she was drinking the passionfruit lemonade (she was), only to tell her that it was his favorite. Then they go for hours of silence again, while Harry caught up on what he missed, and Y/N took care of her typical duties. 

It’s just about 30 minutes before they clock out when Harry calls her name. Harry never says her name, so she’s a little shocked to hear it come from his mouth. This time, when Y/N turns, he is looking at her – his gaze is boring into her, actually, and Y/N is only a little alarmed. 

“Are you busy after work today?” He inquired, and Y/N’s mouth was agape as she shook her head, “May I take you somewhere?” 

Y/N swallows hard, “Oh, like – not to kill me, right? Haha,” she scratches her thigh, “Sure, like – are we going to eat or –” 

“You like boba, right?” Y/N makes a soft, surprised sound, nodding – had she told him that before? She spent so many days just anecdoting random things to him with no response; she has no clue what she’s told him, expecting him not to be listening. “Then we can go there. Isn’t there one nearby?” 

“Yes! Yeah, there’s – yes. We’re going there?” 

“If you’re okay with that.” His gaze is so intense it feels like it’s burning right through her. It’s reminiscent of the intensity of his stare when he was in the supply closet. Her heart races. 

“I am.” She agreed, “Is everything alright?” 

“Mhm.” He turns back to his computer, and Y/N is left to wonder for 30 minutes what in the hell Harry could want to get boba with her for. She’s so nervous she could implode, but she’s trying to be super normal and close up her tasks without making it too obvious. Y/N messaged Niall that she wouldn’t be taking the train with him, and Niall sent her a series of emojis that denote his shock and something super sexual. 

The 30 minutes zip by quickly. They pack their things up silently, they clock out together, they ride the elevator down, and make their way onto the street. The walk to the boba place is relatively quick, and Y/N’s thankful because it’s hot and her palms are sweating like crazy because she’s so nervous. What was this about? Surely it wasn’t to cultivate a friendship or anything, so she had a feeling it was going to be about the other day. Maybe he would tell her that last week was only a mistake, and he really had been talking about someone else. Or, maybe he would be making it clear to her that he wasn’t interested in any sort of relationship and she just happened to stumble on him at a bad time. Maybe he was worried that she had a huge crush on him now and had the nerve to think he might be interested. 

Well, jokes on him; she already had a huge crush on him before this and in no way imagined that he’d be even remotely interested in her. Even after what she stumbled in on. 

Harry has her put her order in on the screen after his and then pays for both of them. Y/N offered to send him the money, but he only shook his head. “It’s on me,” he tells her before nodding toward a corner booth, fairy lights twisted around overhead that made it cozy and cute on the inside. Y/N follows after him like a duckling, scoots into the seat across from him, and waits patiently. Her heart is thudding so hard she thinks it might rattle her sternum enough to dislocate a few ribs. Harry pulls out his phone from his pocket and lays it on the table so he isn’t sitting on it. He shoves his work bag to the corner of the booth, then leans forward on his elbows. 

“I know this is a bit sudden,” he finally began, before their drinks were even done. She’s thankful – there’s no way she would have been able to wait the amount of time it took for them to get their order, even though the place was sort of barren this evening. “I just – um. . .wanted to discuss the other day. What you saw, and what I said. I wanted to apologize.” 

Her heart speeds up even more than before, “Harry, you really don’t have to – like it’s totally okay! I haven’t told anyone or anything. It’s really my fault for following you in there, so –” 

“I want to apologize, Y/N.” He cut her off, gaze serious, mouth set firmly, “No matter what the circumstances were, what I said to you wasn’t okay at all. And. . .and with your response, it made me think that I just haven’t treated you well at all. I didn’t. . .I was just so caught up in my own shit that I didn’t realize how poorly I’d – you know. I’m not just apologizing for that day, but I am apologizing for this whole year. I’ve been a dick.” 

Y/N blinks a couple of times, eyes darting around – making eye contact with him was a little too intense for her to just maintain, “I – I mean, it’s okay, really. I always just figured you were kind of grumpy.” 

He laughs a little. “I am a bit grumpy, yeah,” he agrees. “And I’m sorry that I’ve been so grumpy towards you. It’s. . .it’s no excuse.” 

“Is it really my scent?” Y/N’s head tilts, motioning toward herself, “I thought my scent patches were pretty good, like – standard. I know you can smell a little bit beneath them, but – is it really that distressing?” 

Harry. . .for the first time she’s ever seen him look like this. . .seems a little flushed. Embarrassed, even, and as if the universe had granted him a small blessing, their order is called. He stands up quickly to go get them, making his way back to the table with his cheeks still sort of rosy. 

“It isn’t distressing,” he finally replies, stabbing his straw through the lid, “It’s just. . .good, is all. You smell very good. I really need you to ignore everything that I said about it, though, alright? I’m sort of humiliated.” 

“That’s fine! I can – yeah, I won’t mention it anymore.” She held out her pinky finger, and Harry laughed again, softly, before locking his with it, “Niall might want to have some idea of what’s going on, though, and he can tell when I’m lying.” 

Harry sighs, “Niall is okay. But if the whole floor knows afterward, tell him I’ll let everyone know what happened at the Christmas party last year.” “What happened?” 

“I was sworn to secrecy,” he answers, “He’ll know.” 

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, the milk tea coating her belly, and a piece of cookie gets stuck in the straw, so she has to suck it really hard to get it out. After she’s done chewing on it, she says, “Does this mean. . .do you think you and I can be friendly now?” She asks, “I promise to wear thicker scent patches if that makes things easier.” 

“You do not have to change anything you’re doing for me,” he is quick to say, “I’m the one who needs to change. I’ll be. . .much less grumpy toward you, okay. I promise that.” He tells her, “And if you notice I’m being a dick, then you just tell me, and I’ll straighten up, okay?” 

Butterflies lick the inside of her tummy. 

“Okay.” She agrees.