Work Text:
Shawn was a heavyweight. The World Heavyweight Champion to be exact. He was two hundred and twenty five pounds of muscles. He was a complete an total badass.
Shawn was also an omega.
Swimming in a pool of alphas. As far as he could tell he was the only male omega in WWE. All the females were omegas but Shawn wasn't no damn broad. Had anyone known they would have treated him like one. So Shawn kept it quiet.
It wasn't too hard. Contrary to popular belief there wasn't this scent/pheromone thing that would tell him off, only female omegas had those and in small doses. Unless he was in heat. Then that could fuck him. Then he was a funk pot of pheromones. His body was trying to attract the right alpha yadda yadda yadda. Shawn didn't care. Unless he wanted the fucking trauma of being overpowered, heats didn't fit in his alpha dominated line of work.
So Shawn didn't fight on his schedule heat week.
It was as simple as that.
Well it was until he fucking went into an unexpected heat in the middle of a fight. His opponent, Kurt Angle, gave him a shocked, curious, and then hungry leer so Shawn scrambled out the ring fast.
Now, Mr. McMahon didn't not hire omegas because he was sexist. (That's not the whole reason anyway because male omegas would be a huge liability.) But there just wasn't many that went into the wrestling career. Most omegas tended to be homebodies, cooking and cleaning and tending the the every need of their alphas and that just wasn't Shawn's deal. It never will be.
But Vince did put up policies in case something exactly like this happens. What to do if an unknown male omega goes into unexpected heat aka Policy 79.6 seemed utterly ridiculous to Shawn at first but now isn't he oh so grateful.
The security guards were supposed to come escort him off the stage and safely into one of the few heat chambers they had in the back. Which was working out fine until a few of the guards decided they wanted to get handsy. Then they all decided they wanted to taste the rainbow whether Shawn consented or not. And he fought. He really did but he was out numbered and was weakened by his heat so Shawn was more or less helpless.
That had always been Shawn's greatest fear. Being overpowered. And it seemed to he coming true but just as one of the bastards shoved in, someone ripped him off. Shawn didn't see who it was at first because his eyes were closed. He would never say that he was too afraid to open his eyes because he wasn't. Shawn was the Heartbreak Kid. He wasnt easy to scare. He was just a tad shaken. But he heard commotions and shouting and fighting. Shawn's parents had taught him, way back when he was a chump and first told them of his career goals, that when omegas did go into heat, alphas fought over them. So the commotion caught his attention as he peeked his eyes open, fully intent on bolting with this God-sent distraction.
But a gentle hand on rubbing his cheek caught him off guard and he closed his eyes again.
"Hey Shawnie, it's me Hunter. It's alright. I got you." A gentle voice said that made Shawn snap his eyes open. There was H standing in front of him protectively. Behind him was The Rock, Chris Jericho, Undertaker, and Stone Cold all watching him protectively, in concern and worry. Not lascivious leers. So Shawn calmed down instantly.
Shawn didn't cry. He was an omega, not a pussy. And he wasn't scared. He was just shaking. He pulled up his pants from where that sexist bastard had shoved them down his thighs and nodded shakily, leaning into Trip a little. H wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"It's alright. Well keep you safe." Triple H reassured him and he and his other friends led him down the hall.