I couldn’t resist doing this as an A/B/O fic. I do love that trope, and scent is such a big part of it. 😀
This is not connected to my other A/B/O drabbles. It’s also not relevant which of them is the alpha and which is the omega in this particular scene. You may imagine them as you choose! 😀
Tony circulates through the crowd at the alpha/omega mixer more or less on autopilot. There isn’t a lot of turnover at high security mixers like this one; most of the people here know each other already. They keep coming because someone finds their match just barely often enough to give the rest of them hope. They’d all have better luck at a more publicly available event, but Tony had tried that once since becoming Iron Man and ended up needing the armor to get out again.
Celebrity does have its downsides.
Finishing his drink, Tony is considering heading back to the bar when someone behind him says, “Excuse me.”
Turning, Tony smiles. “Stephen! Fancy seeing you here. Wizard Academy doesn’t run their own mixers?”
“Tony!” Stephen looks startled, for all that he was the one to address Tony first. “They do, but I thought I should branch out.” He pauses and then says, “I didn’t actually realize it was you until you turned around.”
“Then why—” Tony breaks off as realization dawns. They’ve only really interacted in professional settings until now, which means they were both politely wearing scent blockers. But tonight…
Stephen nods. “I caught your scent,” he says.
Tony’s heart rate kicks up a notch. “Would you like to double check?” he asks, gesturing at his throat.
Tony lifts his chin in invitation and Stephen steps in close, leaning down until he can trail his nose delicately up the line of Tony’s throat toward his jaw. Tony shivers at the prickle of sensation and inhales deeply, catching a hint of Stephen’s scent as he does. It’s smokey, a little like incense, and Tony enjoys the thread of it, though he knows it’s only the top notes.
When Stephen pulls back his eyes are dark and his lips parted, like he’s still trying to pull in Tony’s scent. Silently, he tilts his head in invitation.
Up close, Stephen’s smokey scent takes on tones of honey and something else, something sharper. Tony finds his eyes closing as he breathes it in. No one has ever smelled this good. He doesn’t want to retreat, doesn’t want to return to polite conversation. He wants to taste.
“Tony,” Stephen murmurs, his voice a low rumble.
“I love the way you smell,” Tony says softly.
“The feeling is mutual.” Stephen’s hands come to rest on Tony’s hips. “Perhaps we could take this somewhere more private?”
That’s enough motivation for Tony to pull away enough to meet Stephen’s gaze. He’s smiling, eyes bright. It hits Tony all of a sudden, what all of this means: He’s found his mate.
“Your place or mine?” Tony says, waggling his eyebrows, and Stephen laughs.