Work Text:
John blinked up at the bathroom mirror, toothbrush still dangling from the corner of his mouth, foam threatening to drip onto his chin. The light above him flickered a little, casting a dim glow over his reflection.
He squinted.
"...Huh."
His voice cracked on the huh, climbing just a little too high, and he stiffened.
The toothbrush clattered into the sink.
His hand went to his throat instinctively, fingers brushing skin that felt a little too warm, a little too tingly. He leaned in, pupils dilating slightly as he examined himself with slow, analytical precision. No dramatic shift. No sudden fangs or magic glowy eyes like in some fantasy novel. But the changes were there.
Softer skin. Slight swelling in the scent glands around his neck. And... oh boy, that scent—he didn’t have it before. There was something warm and faintly sweet curling around him now, something he couldn’t smell four days ago. Something that definitely hadn’t clung to his pillowcase this morning.
"...I’m not a beta anymore, am I?" he said flatly. Again, the voice cracked—just at the end, like a question mark trying to dodge judgment.
No one answered. Just the sink dripping.
John stared at his reflection—same mop of stubborn brown hair, same freckles, same wide eyes—only now, he was… different. Still him. But more him? Or less?
It wasn’t fear exactly that bloomed in his chest. Just a strange kind of knowing.
He sighed, voice steadier this time. “Guess it’s gonna be one of those years.”