Catching up on my omegaverse week! This is for Day 6, “outdated traditions,” and is a fic idea I’ve been wanting to write for ages. I had an idea about there being “omega” and “alpha” cakes that were exchanged in the past, and I thought it’d be cute to explore with these guys.

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Rhys has never been to this little pastry shop before.

His favorite one lies on the other end of the hub, with an adjoined cafe that sells the vanilla bean lattes he likes to grab whenever he has time before work. Jack likes their black coffee well enough, so it gives him an excuse to go and grab a strawberry danish to tide him over until lunchtime.

But this shop looks little like his usual spot. For one, they don’t seem to sell coffee at all, with the little menu behind the counter displaying only a couple varieties of tea sold by cup or in loose leaf form. Rhys doesn’t think he’s had anything like that since he was in college and desperately trying to stave off a sore throat with a little mint tea and honey.

But thankfully, he’s not here for coffee. No, Rhys is here at this little, quaintly decorated pastry shop way out on the outskirts of the Hub, to look for alpha cake.

See, Hyperion’s a modern company. Though most of the high-ranking executives and managers are alphas, beta and omegas are ostensibly welcomed and allowed to advance if they have the proper skills to back it up. Rhys has heard more horror stores from some of the other more traditional companies, making even a cutthroat place like Helios seem like a relative paradise. And now that he’s Handsome Jack’s live-in boyfriend life has eased considerably, with his statue rendering him effectively immune to any lingering traditional bias. Comes with the territory of dating the man who can jettison all his enemies into space with the press of a button.

But not all the old traditions are necessarily bad, even if they come from kind of stuffy backgrounds. Case in point—alpha cake.

He’d first heard of cake as a courtship ritual back when he was a teen, thanks to his mother. Generations ago it was commonplace to have a large party when an omega and alpha were intended to mate, one that joined both families together in celebration. The centerpiece of such an event was the exchange of special cakes between the two, meant to signify what each partner would provide for the other—as well as allow each family to show off their biggest, fanciest looking cakes.

Despite the fact that Rhys was by-far a non-traditional omega—first off, he was tall and pretty skinny, already a guy that’d be passed over for his lack of “child-bearing hips”—he’d always found the idea of the cake exchange kind of cute. It might’ve just been his sweet tooth talking but he’d always fantasized bringing his future-mate an alpha cake to confirm his feelings. And while that thought had always lingered in the back of his mind, only recently—as his relationship with Jack grew more serious—did he start genuinely considering following through with it.

Which is why he was here at this pastry shop gawking at the big cases full of cakes, looking a little bit lost.

There were a ton of varieties of both alpha and omega cake, ranging widely in terms of sizes and pricing. Usually when confronted with sweets Rhys could figure out what he was craving pretty quickly, but considering he’s supposed to give this to Jack he’s getting a little bit flustered. Traditional alpha cake—as he’d learned browsing through websites on his way here—is dense and kind of heavy, stuffed with nuts and dried fruit and occasionally ingredients like carrot shavings, banana, or chocolate chips.

All the cakes in the case look a lot fancier than the ones that Rhys had seen earlier. Most are topped with a delicate frosting and topped with clean, artful designs sprinkled with cinnamon.  Some even have the alpha symbol delicately drawn in chocolate designs or pretty, autumn-colored flowers poking out from the top. Rhys swallows, hands pressed up against the glass. What if he gets something Jack thinks is stupid? Or—oh no—what if Jack doesn’t even like alpha cake and this stupid gesture ends up all for nothing?

He knows Jack likes his coffee black and his burgers medium-rare, and has a soft spot for that little Truxican spot that always resists every major makeover of the Hub, but they’ve never talked about what kind of cake they each like before. What’s he even doing here? This is probably a huge mistake.

Rhys is just about to straighten up and go when a short, chubby looking beta—by the scent that wafts over the smell of batter and sugar—enters in from the back room and fixes him with a smile.

“Hey there hun! Can I help you find anything?”

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Five minutes later and Rhys is standing outside the pastry shop with a little white bag in hand. Inside the bag sits an individual-sized alpha cake, with a message piped ontop at no extra charge.

“To the most handsome alpha this side of the galaxy.” His cheeks already burn looking at it. Why had he let the employee talk him into this? He should’ve just left it blank. Now it feels like he’s setting himself up for something.

His stomach flips a little with anxiety. He lets out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Oh well. Best to just get it over with.

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When the security door to Jack’s penthouse opens, Rhys is immediately hit by the smell of sugar and baking.

He furrows his brows as he crosses over the threshold, noticing Jack’s shoes by the door and his jacket on the rack. He switches the cake bag from hand to hand as he shrugs off his vest and wiggles off his shoes, placing them besides Jack’s. He tiptoes towards the kitchen, steps quieted by his socks, curious.

Jack’s presence isn’t all that strange. Rhys has caught him cooking and baking before, sometimes even at odd hours of the night or early in the morning. He’s been surprised with breakfast several times since moving in, and occasionally on his day off he’ll go out into the dining room to find a basket of popovers sitting on the table alongside a dish of butter and jar of fancy jam. Jack’s cooking habit is something Rhys would have never expected from the CEO, but it’s one of those little positive things he’s discovered about his hero since actually dating him.

But right now as Rhys watches from the doorway he can see Jack putting the finishing touches on a huge cake artfully slathered in fresh cream and topped with strawberries. He looks so focused, tongue stuck out from between his lips, that Rhys almost feels bad interrupting, but the surprise at exactly what Jack’s making forces him to speak up.

“Is…is that omega cake?”

Jack jumps slightly at the nose, turning to Rhys just as he puts himself between his boyfriend and the cake. His eyes widen, a bluffing smile crawling over his face.

“What? No—I—what’s omega cake? Sounds like something super dumb and corny…”

“Jack…” Rhys sighs, shaking his head as he reaches into the bag. “You don’t have to…I mean…look.”

He pulls his own cake out, embarrassing message at all. Jack’s eyes fall to the container, lips parting slightly in surprise as he reads what it says, takes in what Rhys bought.

“…You’re kidding.”

“Oh my god,” Rhys snickers, relaxed and relieved. “I thought I was going to look so stupid with this but…I can’t believe…how did you get the same idea?”

“Kitten, you know I like to make nice things for you, you should’ve guessed—“Jack steps to the side, finally allowing Rhys to get a better look at the cake. His alpha has a real artistic side. Not everyone can carve strawberries into adorable little blossoms.

There’s even a little message in glossy red on top: “To the best omega in the entire universe.” It makes Rhys feel a little bit better about his own cheesy cake. It makes him feel a little something else too.

“Oh Jack…” Rhys sets his little cake aside to wrap his alpha up in a hug, peppering Jack’s face with affectionate little kisses. His worries from before are totally gone, melted away and leaving him with nothing but happiness. Jack chuckles softly to himself before returning his kisses, meeting Rhys in a particularly long one.

“Looks like we’re gonna be eating plenty of cake for the foreseeable future.” Jack rubs their noses together, his hands creeping around Rhys’ waist. The omega wiggles closer, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, you better believe I’m more than okay with that, mister.”