Archive of Our Own

Ghost immediately stiffened when he heard a knock at the door. He couldn’t believe that anybody would think that the shop was anywhere near ready to to be opened, what with the half-unpacked boxes and all, but when he straightened up he could see that there was indeed someone at the entrance, standing patiently just outside the door, though Ghost carefully didn’t look for too long.

He huffed and made sure to put all of the screws for his shelf into the bag he had just shaken them out of. If he was taking a bit longer than necessary in hopes of discouraging his visitor, no one needed to know.

But once it was clear that they weren’t leaving, he was marching over to the door, weaving among the boxes that cluttered what was slowly being arranged into his new parlor. Most of the boxes held decorations and shelving units for the supplies he’d need to have on-hand the most. He’d already started pulling out some of his sketchbooks, debating on what he’d want to put in his example booklet, if only to keep himself busy between properly unpacking.

“We’re not open yet,” he grumbled upon opening the door. The man outside was dressed in jeans and a nice blue shirt with the sleeves pushed up, showing off thick forearms. Blue eyes, mohawk, a stupidly bright smile, smelling distinctly like an alpha, holding a bouquet of flowers in a plain white vase.

“Oh, I know- obviously not.” The man chuckled. “I’m the owner of the shop next door, I figured that I might as well come say hi, see if you needed any help. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else coming around, is it just you that’s going to be running this place?”

Christ, he was talkative. And friendly. Too much so, especially with the headache that had been building over the last couple of hours.

Ghost knew the type, just as he knew that he wouldn’t be getting anything else done today if he stood at the door politely trying to cut the man off. So, reluctantly, he opened the door a bit wider. Might as well at least attempt to make a good impression while he could.

“Just putting together some shelves right now,” he said bluntly, a last-ditch hope that the stranger would get the hint in his deadpan voice.

Unfortunately, the silent plea to be left alone seemed to go over the man’s head entirely. He simply caught the door with one hand and grinned.

“I’m John, by the way. And- these are for you, wherever you want to put them.” He offered the vase of flowers out, and Ghost simply stared for a moment.

“Feels like I’m about to be asked on a date,” he said dryly.

John flushed slightly, ducking his head as he chuckled. “Aye, I get that a lot. I just- my shop does gardening and bouquets, kinda general plant stuff, so flowers is an easy gift for me to give.”

Ghost hummed in understanding, not entirely settled with the answer, but he finally took the flowers and stepped back from the door. The bouquet was nice, small and unobtrusive. He set it on top of one of the stacks of boxes and turned to make his way back to the shelf that he had been working on. He didn’t have the instructions for it anymore, so he was a lot of guesswork. Already he had been struggling with it off and on for the last few hours, trying to make sure each screw was going in the right-sized hole.

Worse than an indecisive client, it was. Utter fucking nightmare, and definitely not a help for the ache pounding away at his skull.

“Where d’ya want me?” John asked, standing back a step as he surveyed the scene.

Ghost gave him a glance, wary of the unfamiliar alpha, but… if the man was seriously offering…

“C’mere. Need you measuring depth and figuring what panels go where.”

~~~

John was helpful, to his credit. The problem was that he just kept. Fucking. Talking.

Constantly yammering on, keeping Ghost just engaged enough that he couldn’t just zone out and focus on easing his headache with the soft music humming through his earbuds.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept well the night before, unable to get much actual rest in a new flat while he was still adjusting. His mouth was also uncomfortably dry, and the headache just kept getting fucking worse every time John opened his mouth.

It finally came to a head when John stretched a bit too far after having sat himself on the polished concrete floor. He’d been dutifully sorting out screws and dowels for Ghost’s ease, chattering about- fuck, he wasn’t even sure anymore. He had started with something about the bakery around the corner, and his stretch had just cut off something about one of his friends.

But then one of his hands bumped into a forgotten, long-cold cup of tea that Ghost had set down at some point in the day.

Ghost watched as John flinched away too late – the cup tipping and spilling, immediately soaking into the stack of sketches that it had been sitting on.

John was jerking up to his feet almost as soon as the liquid spilled, scrambling to his feet with a yelp as he tried to right the cup and save the soaked paper. He was nearly frantic, glancing around for anything to clean it up before he seemingly decided to sacrifice his own shirt for the cause, cursing as he used the bottom edge of his shirt to mop up the worst of it.

Unfortunately for him, Ghost had hit his goddamn limit. He felt more than heard the growl that ripped out of his throat, the way he snarled at the alpha whose head snapped up to stare all wide-eyed at him, like a deer in the headlights.

“Out,” Ghost snarled – too harsh, he knew, but he didn’t care in the moment.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, fuck-”

“Out, get the fuck out,” he snapped again, jabbing a finger in the direction of the door for emphasis.

John only hesitated for another second, his face turning red and obviously mortified, before he seemed to hunch in on himself and scurry towards the door.

He let himself out without another word, leaving Ghost in blissful silence again – finally.

~~~

Just a couple days later, with his shelves finally put together and the parlor actually coming together, Ghost… felt bad about the entire episode.

John had been nice, helping him out without question, leaving him with a gift of flowers. He clearly hadn’t meant to knock the cup of tea over, and it really been Ghost’s fault in the first place for leaving it in such a precarious position.

Besides, the sketches that had been ruined were old and had been digitally scanned and refined ages ago. They were old sketches, things that Ghost didn't actually need now. The physical paper only held sentimental value anymore, they probably should’ve found their way to the bin as he had packed his things.

The guilt bit at him every time that he unlocked the door to the parlor, being reminded of his neighbor just next door. John hadn’t deserved to bear the brunt of Ghost’s bad mood.

He just… didn’t know how to fix it. The floral shop seemed to be decently busy, always opening and closing its doors earlier than his own place did - once he got put together enough to start taking clients, at least. He didn’t have a chance to walk over and just talk to John about the mess of a first impression. Not without the possibility of someone else walking in and interrupting, inevitably stealing Ghost’s momentum in whatever apology he managed to scrape together.

So.

He left it. At least for now.

Ghost contented himself with telling himself that he’d get around to it later, when the chance rolled around. If it ever did. Which it surely would- it had to, right? Especially with the two of them in such close proximity to each other.

But then one week turned into two, then into three – and on, and on, as he got settled into his shop and his work.

Ghost honestly started to simply accept that the alpha next door, in his admittedly cozy-looking floral shop, would simply remain an awkward stranger that he’d just have to ignore until the end of time.

Until one day, he had to close up early to make a doctor’s appointment. The change in schedule was nothing more than a mild annoyance, for nothing more than a routine checkup. He wasn’t expecting anything to be exceptionally out of the ordinary.

But then he stepped out of the parlor, locking the front door and glancing down the pavement just to see his neighbor doing the same. Ghost could feel himself instinctively lock up at the sight, studiously not looking directly in the man’s direction. He wouldn't give John any reason to initiate a conversation, even if his stomach turned with guilt. It would be a decent opportunity to apologize, after all – but it’s far easier to tell himself that it’s smarter to get home first, to make sure he won’t be late to his appointment. John was a chatterbox, after all, god knew that getting caught up with him would mean Ghost getting stuck for at least fifteen minutes.

He did his best to comfort himself with that thought, once again putting off the apology for later, for a ‘better’ moment as he starts off down the street.

At least, until a few blocks later, when he noticed John still behind him.

Their eyes met for just a second, before John went pink and buried his nose right back into the phone that he had glanced up from. Ghost immediately felt himself prickling at the thought of being followed home, his constant paranoia making him prickle at the thought of some seemingly innocent alpha trying to pull something over on him. It had his annoyance quickly boiling into anger, spurring him on to turn the corner to the street that he had moved onto and stopping.

He only had to wait a few moments – grabbing John by the front of his shirt as he followed him around the same corner. The alpha gave a squeak of surprise in response, hands coming to grip at Ghost’s wrists, but otherwise letting the omega manhandle him against the wall as a growl rumbled out of Ghost's chest.

“Why the fuck are you following me?”

John quickly released his hands at that, raising his own in quick surrender as his eyes went wide. “I’m not! Not on purpose, I swear, I’m just getting home, I live down this way.”

Ghost snarled wordlessly for a moment, but- fuck, it wasn’t like he could do much against that, if John just so happened to actually live in the area, within walking distance of his own business.

So he gave the man a little shake before releasing him again, turning to continue marching on. He checked behind him every so often, trying to gauge where John would split off from his own path, but the alpha just… continued… to follow.

Even when Ghost stopped at the door of his block of flats, John slowly crept up behind him, ears blazing red by now.

“Really? You’re fucking with me.” Ghost sneered at the man, not caring how embarrassed he seemingly was.

“I’m not! I really-” John fumbled a hand into his pockets, pulling out a keychain that held a key fob that unfortunately matched Ghost’s own to a T – which he then used to unlock the door for the both of them, just to further prove his point.

Ghost heaved a long sigh, but shoved the door open and nearly stomped his way inside, moving for the stairs. He would actually combust on the spot if he had to be trapped in any awkward silence in an elevator with John after all this.

Only- the moment that he got up to the third floor, he heard the elevator ding, the doors sliding open just in time for him to once again meet John’s eyes as the alpha looked up.

At the very least, it gave him some sort of sick amusement to see the man’s face once again go an almost concerning shade of red. Even Ghost was able to see the way the man seemed to be willing the elevator to fall with him inside it.

Still. Even with the short moment of amusement, it made Ghost’s hackles prickle with a touchy sort of discomfort as he once again led the way, John echoing his footsteps all the way down the hall.

John only finally passed him once Ghost reached his own front door, pausing to watch the man make his way further down… to the very next door.

Fucking hell.

~~~

The next day, though, John was back – stepping into the parlor before any clients could arrive, looking just about ready to jump out of his skin. There were no gifts in his hands this time, just a well-worn silver ring on his pointer finger that he nervously twisted as he practically crept through the door like a nervous cat ready to bolt at the first hint of movement.

“John,” Ghost greeted cautiously, unsure what the alpha would want, especially after their last couple of frankly disastrous encounters.

“Ah- hi! Hello. Sorry, I just-” John jumped, as if he hadn’t been expecting Ghost to actually notice him standing him in the entryway when he spoke. Ghost could already feel his social avoidance kicking up, mind drifting to the materials that he had been sorting through when the door had opened, all the things that he needed to replace. “Sorry,” he repeated. “I wanted to apologize.”

Ghost felt his brows pull together, confused. “I think that was an apology already.” He had a client that would be arriving soon. It would probably be good to double check that he had enough ink to get though all the lining and shading that he would be doing for the design. “What are you apologizing for, anyway? It’s awkward, but it’s not like you can just up and move because we happen to be neighbors.”

John let out an uncertain noise, but Ghost left him, giving him however long he needed to figure himself out as he got his supplies together. At least he wouldn’t need any colored ink for this session, but he was running surprisingly low on his paper towels. He could probably make a run to Tesco, but that would take at least a good fifteen minutes. He could feel his frown deepen as he recounted the rolls that he’d gone through already – that couldn’t be right, could it?

“I- I meant for your sketches. The ones I ruined,” John finally stuttered out. “I never got around to properly apologizing to you for it.”

“What.” Ghost looked up, having to take a moment to actually process what John had said. “I… no. It’s fine. I was going to toss those anyway.” He uncapped a sharpie with his teeth, making a note for himself on his wrist for later, bending down to shuffle through his locked cupboards.

“Oh. I- okay,” John mumbled weakly.

Ghost nodded, not sure what else to say. He found his last roll of paper towels and straightened up again, pausing as he realized that he should probably actually put some effort into responding further. He should probably try to explain himself, make his shitty excuses for his frustrations, actually extend an apology of his own.

But apparently he hesitated for too long, and John gave a rushed nod of his own, avoiding Ghost’s eyes like the plague as he idly bounced on his heels.

“Right- yeah. You’re clearly busy, I’ll leave you to it. Sorry again.” And then he was gone before Ghost could try to stop him, stepping backwards out of the door – nearly running into a passerby on the street. Ghost watched John apologize profusely to the stranger before he rushed off, back over to his own shop, cheeks once again blazing a mortified red.

Fuck.

Just another thing to find a moment to try and apologize for.

~~~

“He hates me, Gaz,” Soap moaned, nearly getting a faceful of rose thorns as he flopped over his work table. “I made him throw away a whole stack of his art! I don’t even know how many, he probably thinks I’m a complete fucking dafty by now.”

“To be fair, mate…” Gaz’s voice crackled slightly over the call as he chuckled. “You can be pretty stupid sometimes. What does he look like?”

Soap knew what he was saying, and knew that he wouldn’t be escaping his fate either way, so he made it easy for Gaz. “Fuck. Big, blonde, scarred up, wears an apparently permanent mask, built like a brick fuckin’ shithouse.” He sighed, propping his chin in one hand. “Bet he’s right braw under the mask, though.”

“Sounds like the exact type to have you acting a fool, then.”

Soap scoffed, though he knew he couldn’t deny it. His new neighbor pushed a lot of buttons for him, enough that it had him abandoning any and all social skills he though he’d had, apparently. Soap wasn’t under any ill-conceived notion that he was some wild hit with the ladies (or lads), but he was usually at least competent enough to know when to shut the fuck up and how to carry on a conversation. His neighbor just… well.

To be fair, half of the awkwardness came from his blunder, spectacular as it was, ruining an entire stack of the man’s art. That definitely got in the way of trying to balance his usual rules of social engagement.

Soap knew how devastated he would feel if one of his own sketchbooks had been ruined like that, and the sympathy only made his guilt spiral further, making something in his chest flutter with the anxious need to fix it. An urge that he couldn’t exactly indulge in, seeing as what he had ruined were delicately sketched drawings on paper. It wasn’t as if there was much of a chance to actually repair art like that.

“Ugh, I can hear you spiraling yourself to death,” Gaz complained. “I’m coming over, we can get some drinks and figure something out. I’m sure there’s something you can do to make up for it.”

Soap could only manage another mournful sigh, but he nodded to himself regardless, gathering his strength before answering. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.

“Sweet. I’ll see you in a few.”

~~~

Soap was starting to believe that he was cursed.

There was no other way to explain the ways that his attempts to apologize and make up for his blunder could continue to go so abhorrently wrong.

The bouquet that he’d initially put together had decided to not only wilt but mysteriously start rotting the night before he planned to bring it over to his neighbor. The cookies he was usually perfectly competent at baking kept coming out charred and hard as rocks. Hell, the caramels that he had finally managed to succeed with somehow ended up being fucking stolen by one of his own customers, the thieving cunt.

He was nearly ready to just give up on the entire endeavor, honestly. Maybe it wasn’t worth it to try and make friends with Simon, who he had only ever learned the name of because of a delivery that had been mistakenly left at his own shop’s door.

But, learning his neighbor’s name aside, the man just seemed… distant. Kinda uninterested in actually engaging with people in general, from what Soap had seen. Which was fine! Soap wasn’t going to judge the guy for being picky, if that’s what it was.

He was just… y’know. Starting to wonder if it was worth it to try and push through the man’s walls, if he would always be an unwelcome visitor. Maybe it would be better for both of them if he didn’t keep making a complete tit of himself, like some needy, attention-hungry slag.

But then, one morning, he took an idle peek through the window of Simon’s parlor and froze.

At first he wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong. The front had a couple of tattooing chairs in the back corner, the area closest to the window transformed into a seating area and waiting room. And, maybe, he supposed that the waiting area did look a little messy, but… that wasn’t just it. The cabinets by the tattooing chairs were open, one of the chairs in the waiting area tipped over and leaning against the next one, the magazines that sat on the coffee table scattered over the surface and off onto the floor.

Had the place been robbed? Simon never left his shop looking anything other than flawless at the end of the day from what Soap had seen day after day. Was Simon okay? There was no sign that he could see of the man actually being inside, but Soap’s instincts were immediately roaring at him to go and check on the man.

Testing the door, Soap found it unlocked, making his concern only flare higher as he pulled it open and stepped inside. Maybe it was fucking stupid to leave fingerprints at a potential crime scene, but the thought of the potential of Simon being left to slowly bleed out… he knew he had to check and see if the man needed help, make sure that he wasn’t hurt, that he hadn’t been left to die-

But then Soap’s senses slammed into a nearly physical wall that sent his mind screeching to a sudden stop, as he was enveloped by the scent of heat.

Thick, sweet, damnably enticing – laced with the bitter scent of panic, especially in this outermost room.

That… that definitely changed his reading of the situation inside the shop. It somewhat settled his nerves at least, less worried about something having happened to Simon. Now his concern was more that something might end up happening to him if he wasn’t careful. If there was an omega in heat nesting inside, and his snooping potentially disturbed them…

At least it explained the state of the parlor’s waiting room. Someone starting their heat unexpectedly wouldn’t exactly be thinking about cleaning up after themselves.

Soap had to wonder what had happened – was Simon home, allowing someone else to ride their heat out in his shop? Had he called for them to be picked up, even if it was just to get them to a heat facility? Did the man have an omega, maybe? Had they come in to get him, beg him to join them for their heat as they fell into it?

The thought had a bit of a jealous pang jolt through him, but he shook it off just as quickly. He had just been wondering whether it was worth it to even attempt to get close to the man – he didn’t have any right to get jealous of any relationships that Simon did have.

Still, with the door unlocked and the waiting room a mess, Soap cleared his throat in the mid-morning quiet of the shop and called out Simon’s name, if only just to check. Surely the man wouldn’t just leave his door unlocked, right?

There was no response, and he crept further into the building, eyes glancing around for any sign of a territorial and potentially violent omega. Despite generally being seen as the sweeter sex, omegas were more than capable of being vicious little bastards when their nests were disturbed, and Soap had no plans of being mauled because he stumbled his way over some poor thing’s boundaries.

So he got to the tattooing chair that was further inside the shop and paused, calling out again, softer and more uncertain this time.

Then Soap heard the quiet rumble of a growl, low and bassy, freezing him to his spot as he desperately tried to identify exactly where the sound was coming from. That sound was a very clear threat, warning him that he was not welcome. But then he was able to trace it to the door that mirrored the entrance to the work room of his own shop and relaxed enough to step forward, kneeling down a few meters away from the door, just in case the omega inside decided to peek out and deign him a threat.

“Simon? Is… is that you?”

There was no response in any way outside of the growling growing louder for a few moments, long enough for him to continue. He didn’t know who was on the other side of the door, but… well, if they were trapped here, there was no reason to not try to help in some way. His mother had raised him right, and he’d learned enough from his omega siblings to know how distressing it could be to get stuck in an unfamiliar place for a heat.

“Is… is there anything I can do to help you? Anything I can get? I can run and grab you some scent blockers, maybe? Make sure that you can get home safe?”

For another long moment there was only that same low growl – but just as Soap was about to attempt a third try at extending an offer of help, the sound quieted. In the near-silence of the shop, he heard the click of a dry swallow through the door.

“Don’t think I’ll make it without collapsing,” came the answer - the voice of none other than Simon, low and rough.

“I can carry you,” Soap answered without thinking, too set into his focus on helping whoever was inside to think about the implications of it actually being Simon inside. All this time he had been assuming that the man was a beta with an exceptionally weak scent, but now… “I might not look it in my usual work outfit, but I am actually pretty strong.”

He swore he heard a quiet little huff, a weak laugh, before Soap heard the thud of Simon’s head against the wall. “And how am I supposed to trust some random alpha to just take me home, huh?”

“Hey, I-” Soap started, instinctively bristling at the insinuation that he would ever do anything untoward to the omega, but- well. Simon wasn’t exactly wrong. They didn’t know each other all that well. There wasn’t any reason for them to trust each other. So, he switched tactics. “Still, is- what can I do to help? I can grab you some blankets and pillows, there’s a nesting shop down the street.”

“Shit’s expensive, though.”

“It’s no problem for me. I can drop some cash on a couple blankets – do you even have anything in there to nest with?”

There was a long pause, a faint shuffle, before Simon spoke again. “… got my jacket.”

Soap frowned, feeling that bubbling, instinctive need biting at his chest again. “Then I’ll go get some blankets, it’s fine-”

“Don’t bother.”

“Simon…”

Soap heard the quiet sigh that Simon gave, the hint of a whine that was twined in with it making Soap nearly shake with repressed instincts.

Then there was another thud against the wall, and Simon grumbled wordlessly for a moment. “Look- just… my keys should be hung up on the corkboard in my workroom. If you could just… grab some of the blankets in my closet, that’ll be fine.”

Soap nodded before he even registered what Simon was actually saying, which made him freeze in place as his mouth went dry, even if the omega couldn’t actually see him. “You- wait, d’ya mean your closet- at home?”

“Yeah, Johnny, my closet at home.” Simon huffed.

For a moment, Soap could only blink in shock, his mouth opening and closing as he processed that information in full. Simon didn’t want him to bring him home, and he didn’t want Soap to buy him new nesting material, but he was willing to trust Soap in his flat, alone.

It didn’t make a lick of sense to Soap, but if that’s what Simon wanted, that’s what Soap would do.

“Alright,” he choked out. “I- okay. I’ll be back, then. Anything else?”

“Just that. I’ll be fine.” Simon sounded like he was getting tired, dragged back into the sleepy warmth of his heat.

So, with a long, steadying breath, Soap nodded to himself. “Right. I’ll be quick.”

With that, he stood and shuffled to the door to the one other room in the shop. There, on the corkboard hung on the wall, there was a keychain hanging from a skeleton head push-pin, the ring held between its teeth. Soap snatched up the keyring and shuffled through the keys on it until he could identify one that was very similar to his own flat’s key.

On his way out, he paused to call to Simon once more. “I’m just going to lock the shop up behind me, okay? Just don’t want anybody else wandering in.”

The response and quiet and tired, but Soap heard the faint “thank you,” that Simon mumbled through the door.

Then Soap was stepping out the door, locking behind him as he said, barely pausing before he was jogging down the street in the direction of home.

At the very least, he didn’t have to think about where he was going – though that meant that he was free to think about Simon. How long had he been in that back room? Had the shop door been unlocked all night? Nothing had been off when Soap had passed the parlor window last night, as far as he had noticed. But had Simon been going into heat then? Had he needed help?

The thought had Soap nearly whining by the time he was fumbling to open the block’s front door. He hadn’t even known Simon was an omega, the man’s scent so well-controlled that it apparently made any hint of it nearly invisible – or maybe he took scent blockers? There were some people who took blockers occasionally, for any number of reasons, but that was usually pretty short-term as far as Soap knew. The thought of Simon taking them so continuously, negating his scent until Soap could barely pick up on any claim he had on his own shop, where he’d been forced to hole up in some barely-furnished back room… it made Soap’s heart hurt.

Once he made it up to their floor, Soap momentarily detoured to his own flat to grab a plastic garbage bag to pack all of the blankets into, before going back to Simon’s door.

There, he hesitated for a long moment halfway through the doorway, unsure if he should actually be doing this. But then he shook it off and reminded himself that Simon was waiting for him, and he slipped through the door.

The general layout was a perfect mirror to Soap’s own flat, an amusing mirror to their shops as well. Everything was facing the wrong way here, of course, but it was easy enough to navigate through. It definitely made it easy to find the linen closet that was full of soft blankets and extra pillows that he struggled to stuff into the bag. It was all already gently scented with the same scent that had already soaked into the flat.

Sweet, earthy – something that screamed calm comfort in the man’s own space.

Soap shoved down the urge to shove his face into the bedding to get a better idea of all those subtle notes, and then the subsequent temptation to snoop around the flat. Just to see if there was anything that could be helpful for Simon, of course, but–

No. He physically shook the idea from his head, huffing to himself.

No, he wasn’t going to risk stepping over any lines. Simon had already given him a lot of trust in allowing a strange alpha into his home, he didn’t need to push any further than what he was doing already.

So, he hauled the bag of bedding over his shoulder and stepped out, locking up behind him as he went.

~~~

Ghost had to admit, John was quick. It had probably only been twenty minutes, if that, when the alpha opened the door again.

Still – even knowing who it was, Ghost couldn’t help the growl that rumbled out of him. His instincts had him feeling shaken at the prospect of a stranger intruding on his territory, the sound of the door’s jingling bell reminding him all too keenly that he wasn’t in a typically secure place.

“Simon? It’s just me, John – got those blankets for you,” the alpha called through the door. “Just gonna leave it outside the door for you.”

Simon heard the quiet crinkle of plastic outside the door that his shoulder was pressed up against, and he gave it a long moment - waiting to hear John shuffle away again - before he reached up to open the door and yank the bag that was waiting for him through. He didn’t wait to say anything, struggling for just a moment and having to twist his body out of the way to get the offer-stuffed bag through the opening, before the door was slammed shut again.

He nearly tore the bag open, eager to have materials that were thicker and softer than the single thin hoodie that he’d had on when this stupid fucking flash heat had hit him. And, thank god, it seemed as if John had managed to stuff almost every blanket and pillow that Ghost had in his closet into the bag. The thing was packed so tightly that it was difficult to actually get them out at first – but once he did, he turned his attention to shuffling all the extra bedding together into a more proper nest.

Of course, it wasn’t going to be anywhere near as comfortable as his usual nests, but anything was better than the polished concrete of his shop. Having something soft, something that actually smelled like himself, was already doing wonders on his mental state. Finally, he was actually able to relax now that he had something to burrow into.

Fuck, he hated these flash heats that he was randomly afflicted by. It had been so long since he had been hit with one that he had almost forgotten how quickly they could set in - he might’ve even fallen into the trap of thinking that he had somehow been cured of having to deal with them.

Ghost had been in the first steps of cleaning up and closing the parlor when he’d felt his body go hot, burning up so suddenly that he’d nearly frozen in place before he’d desperately rushed to get some base necessities that he would need together. He had a small stash of snacks and water for clients to have while they waited for their appointment, so he looted what he could before he was too far into his heat to think of it.

Unfortunately he’d already run through most of the granola bars. But at least he now had a nest. That was better than nothing, after so many hours of being left shivering on the floor, lost in the memories of harsh, cold, clinical and scentless environments of his first few heats.

Well, clinical was a bit of a stretch. But he’d barely even been able to smell himself during those first few heats, never letting his instincts to relax in a room that he hadn't been able to properly claim as his own.

So. He could handle running low on food, and he could ration out the remaining water well enough. A flash heat like this would only last another day or two, most likely. Perhaps not even that. The only thing that he was missing now…

“Do you need anything else?” John’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, and Ghost lifted his head from where he had been pressing himself into his newly constructed nest.

It took him a moment to gather his words, feeling himself properly dipping into another wave of his heat as he blinked slowly. “… you have a jacket on you?”

The silence from outside the door stretched on for a few long moments, almost knocking him out of that growing ease that came with the warmth of his nest, before John gave a strangled noise that had Ghost smiling slightly in response. It was always amusing to take alphas so off guard – but he supposed that John deserved to see some more positive attention from him, anyway.

“Uh- yeah. I do. Do you… want it?”

Ghost settled, pushing himself up a bit to give enough room for the door to open. “No, I just want to make sure you’re not out there in the frigid cold. Yes, I want it. If… if you’re open to it?” He softened his demand, a small part of him bothering to remind the rest of his heat-addled mind that he didn’t know if John had someone else that he was courting.

“I- yeah, of course, yes. Here, I’ll-” Ghost could hear the shuffle of fabric before John paused again.

“Pass it through?” Ghost mumbled, reaching up to unlatch the door. He didn’t quite open it though – leaving that for John to do as one last acceptance of his request.

But it seemed like the man was all too eager to go ahead with it. The door was pushed open slowly, fabric that was still warm with the alpha’s body heat offered out, which Ghost took with a pleased sound. John’s scent was infused with the threads of the hoodie, clearly a much-loved item that had been soaked in the scent for a long time. It definitely helped that said scent was nearly mouthwatering – warm and spiced, cider on a cold night, mulled wine to warm the belly.

He met John’s eyes for just a moment though the crack of the open door and had just a second of mortification roll through him as he realized that he had his face buried in the hoodie. But it passed just as quickly, when the alpha gave him a soft smile with bright eyes – before John reached forward again, just enough to catch the handle of the door and pull it closed again.

“I’ll come back later to check on you, alright? I’ll write my number down, stick it to the door jam – just in case you need anything before I get back?”

“Alright, John,” Ghost mumbled through a yawn, pleased with the alpha’s actions, so respectful of an omega’s nesting space. But now, that incoming wave of heat was catching up to him, especially now that there was a nest built up around him. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” John murmured back to him.

Then Ghost heard him step away from the door, and his hazy mind lost all interest, more focused on nestling further into the blankets around him and preparing for what would come after his little nap.

~~~

Still reeling from Simon’s request, Soap finally stepped away from the front door of the parlor feeling like he must have stepped into an alternate reality by accident. There was no way that Simon, the omega that he’d only had a few rather rough interactions with, had actually asked for something of his to get him through his heat.

Usually, omegas were terrifyingly territorial about their nesting spaces. They were known for lashing out in frankly excessively violent ways when their space was threatened or intruded upon. Hell, even Soap’s younger sister had him quickly learning to tiptoe past her door for her first couple cycles.

The scent from an unwelcome alpha would only set an omega off, was the point. And yet, Simon had asked for something from Soap. Even though, by all accounts, Soap had assumed the man hated his guts after their first disastrous meeting. Simon had every right to hate him, after he ruined so much of the man’s work, after all!

It didn’t make an ounce of sense.

And yet, despite that, Simon had in fact asked for it.

He even looked so pleased, from what Soap had seen of his face, when their eyes met through the door, after Simon had buried his face into Soap’s hoodie.

The thought made him shiver in a way that was far from unpleasant, before Soap forcefully shoved that aside. Mystery of all that aside, Simon still needed some help. Soap doubted that the omega had much in the way of heat supplies tucked away in that back room of his, after all, and Soap wasn’t about to leave him to suffer like that. He’d thrown together care packs before.

So, like any good neighbor would do, he got to work.

~~~

The next time Ghost came out of that wave of heat, he knew he’d be hating himself later.

He was still fucking coming down from a particularly toe-curling orgasm when he heard John calling through the door. The alpha had probably been treated to the last however many minutes of Ghost’s whines and moans as he fucked himself on his fingers, trying to find the perfect angle to make himself trip over the edge – anything to break the wave of miserable, feverish heat that the wave had turned into. The thought, now that he was more clear-headed than before, made him grimace.

Even if he had long outgrown the belief in the slim, weak, submissive omega stereotype that his father had tried to both beat into him and shame him out of, it was hard to stop the fear of someone else carrying those expectations onto him.

But John had been kind thus far, so he was willing to extend a modicum of trust.

“Simon?” John’s voice again broke him from his thoughts, and Ghost sat up and wiped his fingers against the soft folds of his nest to clean them of some of the dampness of his slick that had stuck to them. “Doing okay in there? I got you some stuff to hold you over. Just some foods, and liquids. I didn’t know what kind of tea you’d like, so you’re stuck with my sister’s earl grey.”

Ghost cleared his throat , making sure his voice wasn’t too thrashed before responding as he grabbed a corner of one blanket and continued wiping himself off. “Ah- thank you, you didn’t have to-”

“Do you have a heat stash in there?”

“… well, no,” Ghost started slowly, eyebrows pulling together, somewhat surprised by how dry and no-nonsense the alpha’s voice was. He didn’t keep anything back here but for some of his bulkier supplies for the parlor, though after this experience, that would most definitely be changing.

“Then I’m more than happy to supply you,” John said, his voice turning smug and pleased in equal measure.

Ghost huffed, a soft breath of amusement as he again reached up and unlatched the door for John. “Alright, then, hand it here.”

This time John was quicker to open the door, giving Ghost a brilliant smile as their eyes met. There was another plastic grocery sack this time that he handed over, full of separate food containers – then a water bottle, and a warm thermos that followed right after that.

Ghost left the door open for a moment as he sat up and poked through the containers, though he leaned out of Soap’s view for the most part. The containers were all full of easy to eat food, pasta, and dried fruits and nuts, crackers and peanut butter, a couple of hard boiled eggs that had already been neatly peeled, even a small chocolate bar and a package of fruit snacks.

They were all small things that could be eaten or tucked to the side for later on as his heat ran its course. Clearly, John had some experience taking care of omegas from outside their nests.

Ghost carefully didn’t address the little flutter of jealousy that came to life at the thought. There was no way of knowing who was in John’s life he would've learned from, whether it be a partner or a friend or a family member – or any mix of those.

Instead, he chose to focus on how sweet it was for John to clearly put so much effort into taking care of someone he barely knew – much less a miserable cunt that had shouted at him for no reason.

“Thank you, Johnny,” he said, surprised to hear his own voice rumbling with a purr.

John, in turn, looked just as surprised as Ghost felt – though after a momentary pause he flushed, clearly pleased. Then the alpha gave Ghost a frankly devastating smile. “Of course, Simon. It’s no problem.”

~~~

Ghost spent the rest of the day curled up in his makeshift nest, getting himself off anytime the urge got to be too much. It left him far too much time to sit and stew in his thoughts – thinking about John and how kind and understanding he had been about everything. Stupid and risky as it might be, there were still some alphas who might’ve been ballsy enough to try and get into his good graces while he was at his most vulnerable, not to mention after he had asked Johnny for his hoodie. The alpha could’ve easily taken advantage of his needy state and crawled into his nest, no matter how much he would’ve regretted it later.

But John hadn’t done anything of the sort. He hadn’t even tried to insinuate doing anything more than legitimately helping Ghost. He had just asked what he could do to make the flash heat more comfortable for him, what Ghost needed to make it through the experience.

John was a good alpha, taking care of Ghost despite the fact that they were near strangers. Ghost could only imagine what he could've asked of the man if he hadn’t mucked up their first meeting – what he could’ve asked for if he was one of the alpha’s partners, even. He had to imagine that John’s romantic partners wanted for nothing, especially during their heats. He seemed like a wildly dedicated man.

That thought chased him through the last waves of his heat – one hand working furiously to get him off, the other wrapped tightly into the alpha’s hoodie, pressing it to his face as he whined some garbled words, muffling something that might’ve been the alpha’s name into the fabric. Then he was coming one more time and breathing nothing but the scent of John, feeling his body go warm and slack, finally losing that last bit of tension that had haunted him throughout his heat.

It probably should've been embarrassing to come out of it all and realize that he had somehow developed a crush on the alpha so pathetically quickly – but as he was falling asleep, he made the executive decision to blame it on his heat and leave it at that.

~~~

Ghost actually wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he was woken up by a quiet knock at the door. The sound had him raising his head with a groggy sound, blinking in the harsh light of the storage room.

“You alright in there, Si?”

‘Si’, huh? He wasn’t sure exactly when they’d gotten to the point of using nicknames, but it was kinda charming, at least.

Ghost gave a vaguely affirmative grunt and sat up to assess the damage now that he was fairly certain that he was out of his heat. Which, to put it plainly – he was a fucking mess. All of the bedding around him was damp with sweat, slick, and spit – and his clothes weren’t much better, where they had been tucked among it. That wasn’t too much of a problem though, that was all expected more or less, and he had a spare set of clothes that he kept at the parlor in the case of ink spills.

But no… to put it lightly, John’s hoodie looked like a teenager’s thoroughly used cumrag. And the man himself was just on the other side of the door.

“Do you need anything?” The alpha of the hour spoke up once more, and Ghost could feel his face flush with heat.

“I- no. No, I’m fine. I think I’m done now.”

John gave a small noise of understanding. “Alright, that’s good to hear. Do-”

Ghost waited for a moment, wondering if the man was going to continue, but when John didn’t… he gave a curious hum of his own. “What was that?”

“Sorry… I don’t want to keep pestering you,” John said with a nervous little laugh. “Just wanted to ask if there was anything else you wanted help with. Guess I’ve asked about a thousand times already, but if there’s something…”

Ghost scrubbed a hand over his face, digging the heel of his hand into the soft of his eyes until he could see shapes behind his eyelids. It should be illegal for an alpha to be so goddamn wholesome. Johnny sounded so nervous, so eager to please - it made an entire nest of butterflies erupt into motion in his belly.

Taking a breath, he held it for a moment before answering. “Could you grab my extra clothes? Should be in the work room, furthest cabinet from the door, bottom shelf.”

“Yeah, of course. Just a second.” With that, the alpha scuttled away in search of the requested clothing.

It gave Ghost just enough time to haul himself up and start packing up all the bedding, burying Johnny's hoodie among the mess, hoping the man wouldn’t ask about it at all before he was able to get it cleaned.

Then came the gentle knock at the door once again, and this time Ghost opened the door, sticking an arm through the gap to receive the bundle. It was placed in his hand, and he managed a quiet “thanks,” before shutting the door and getting the rest of his temporary nest packed into the bag that they had been brought in. If it had been full before, the only reason the plastic wasn’t bursting at the seams now was because they had been wetted down and compressed by his own body weight.

And then all that was left to do was to get dressed and step out to face the alpha outside. The alpha that had cared for him through the majority of this endeavor.

He only hesitated for a moment once he got his clothes on, before opening the door between them. There he met John’s eyes, not sure what he should expect, silence stretching between them until Ghost found the will to break it.

“Uh- thank you for the food.”

“Ah, did you finish everything? I wasn’t sure what you’d like for your heats so I got a bit of everything that I could think of.”

“I’m not picky,” Ghost said with a shrug, offering out the second bag of all the empty tupperware that Johnny had given him. “The pasta was good, though. Did you make it yourself?”

The alpha grinned at that, taking the bag. “Yeah – recipe that my older sister gave me a while back. Bit of a family specialty for heats, I guess.”

Ghost hummed his understanding, giving a small nod as Johnny checked through the tupperware, seemingly looking for – what, anything that wasn’t eaten? As if he was already planning on supplying meals for Ghost’s next heat? But then the alpha glanced back up, his cheeks going a precious sort of pink.

“Ah, um…” He shifted on his feet, clearly unsure. “Do you… still have my hoodie?”

As if Ghost could have somehow lost it despite not leaving the room since his heat had started. He almost huffed a laugh, if not for the mortification threatening to turn him into a goddamn tomato. “Yeah, I do,” he stated flatly. “I’ll wash it and get it back to you tomorrow.”

He saw the way that John’s expression did something complicated, before setting into something bashful – Ghost could almost see the question forming, the alpha’s urge to ask for it to be returned immediately, before the man obviously thought better of it and nodded instead. Ghost couldn’t deny the tiny thrill that it sent through him, even if it was nothing more than instinct driving the alpha’s obvious urge.

“Alright, that sounds good,” Johnny finally choked out. “And- there- there’s nothing else you need, then?”

Ghost smiled at that, dipping his head just a little. “I’m fine, Johnny,” he assured the man, feeling his insides squirm and go warm in response to the alpha’s eagerness. “You’ve done more than enough already, really, especially for someone like me. You really didn’t have to.”

“What d’ya mean by that?”

The omega huffed quietly. “It’s not like I made the best impression when we first met. Or since then, really.”

“What?” Johnny seemed even more confused, staring up at Ghost as if he had told the man that the sky was green.

“When you first came in here… you were just trying to help, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. Especially over a bunch of sketches that were going in the bin anyways. The stress of moving and trying to get set up on the timeline that I wanted just made me act like a bit of a cunt.”

Johnny blinked dumbly at him for a moment, obviously confused. “But… it’s not like you were wrong to be mad?”

“I- Johnny, you didn’t do anything wrong. I shouted at you for nothing.”

“… but you were upset.”

Fucking christ, give him strength. The man was too sweet for his own good, and he was going to make Ghost’s heart give out on him. “I was. But it was for a stupid reason, and I just- I didn’t… I didn’t know how to tell you to go away without being a cunt about it.” He shifted on his feet, frowning at the floor between them.

“I probably should’ve picked up on that, honestly. It’s fine, I promise.” Johnny was already smiling at Ghost when he jerked his gaze back to the man.

Ghost just stared for a moment, baffled, feeling a pointed ache in his jaw and the urge to sink his teeth in and gnaw on something. Fuck the flash heat, being faced with the unfiltered, stupid, self-depreciating acceptance of an unquestioning alpha, Ghost wasn’t sure how he hadn’t developed a crush on the man sooner.

“Fine,” he finally choked out. “I guess we can both take the blame for the misunderstanding. That work for you?”

“Nothing to blame you for, but-”

“Johnny.”

The alpha raised his hands in surrender, shrugging with a smile. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just not too practiced at blaming others for getting tired of my shit, its very understandable.”

If he didn’t stop talking like that, Ghost was going to bite him. In a very mean, not-sexy way, too. There was an unexpected sort of frustration that came with hearing Johnny talk about himself like that, an instinctual need to shake some sense into the man and get him to realize how stupid he sounded, but Ghost simply swallowed the urge for now.

Instead, he stepped forward, closing the space between them. Admittedly, he didn’t know what to do from there, unsure of what boundaries he should keep to when it came to physical touch, but the proximity hopefully helped to lend some weight to his words when he spoke.

“You’ve been nothing but helpful, Johnny. I’m sorry for snapping at you, you didn’t deserve it when you were just helping me.”

The alpha stared up at him, words seeming to die in his throat for a moment as Johnny nodded, cheeks turning pink once more.

Ghost nodded in return, and softened a bit. “But- really. Thank you, for… everything. All the help.”

“Of course, Simon. Anytime,” Johnny responded, almost trance-like until he shook himself and gave the omega another stupefying smile. “Just give me a call if you ever need anything and I’ll do my best.”

“Mm. I’ll keep that in mind, then,” Ghost hummed, before turning away entirely, needing to take a moment to recover from the force of the alpha's smile. “I… should probably get home for now, though. I’m just going to clean up the last of the mess here and go.”

Johnny nodded, and Ghost could see the way he froze for a moment, gears clearly turning in his head.

“… For clarification, do… does that mean you want me to go?”

Ghost took a deep breath, settling the immediate swell of nerves that the question dragged up with it. “For tonight, yeah.” He just needed some time alone, to settle himself and process everything that had happened now that he wasn’t being rattled around by his heat. He hoped that Johnny wouldn’t read it as him being tired of the man, or being ungrateful.

But at that, Johnny brightened up with another grin. “Alright, I can do that. And you’ll be fine getting back home on your own?”

“I’m a big boy, Johnny, I’ll be fine. It’s a ten minute walk.”

The start of an uncertain rumble sounded from the alpha, though it was just as quickly cut off. Johnny went red as he met Ghost’s eyes, ducking his head to avoid the amused glance that Ghost threw at him. It was mildly annoying, knowing that society would always push the coddling of omegas after their heats – even one as built as solid and wide as Ghost. Historically, the whole myth of omegas being weak, fainting flowers was more attributed to omegas not having the food or water supplies that they needed during their heat, but somehow it had stuck around even into the modern age.

For both their sakes, Ghost didn’t address the sound at all – simply stepping out into the waiting room to clean up the mess that he remembered leaving.

Only… there was no mess. The chairs that he had most definitely knocked over had been righted, the magazines and puzzle books on the coffee table had been straightened, the counters had even been wiped down of any collecting dust. Obvious not by him, but- fuck. He glanced at Johnny again, adding another thing to the list that the alpha had done for him.

Ghost didn’t understand the man in the slightest.

“You… might have to go through your cabinets, I tried to keep everything with its fellows, but…” Johnny shrugged, carefully stepping past Ghost where he stood in the divide between the front tattoo chairs and the waiting room.

Ghost nodded, lost for words, before Johnny reached the door.

“Johnny,” he finally started, before realizing that he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. Still, the alpha paused and waited, until Ghost finally swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed out a lame, “See you tomorrow,” that had Johnny grinning once more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Simon. Get home safe.” And with that, the alpha disappeared into the night.

~~~

Suffice to say, learning that Simon didn’t hate him put many things into perspective for Soap. After the day that he’d spent mostly trying to help the man with his flash heat, he’d had to rush through the commissions that he’d had scheduled, throwing together bouquets as fast as he could. He’d even called on Gaz’s help, begging the man to help make sure everything would be done on time.

And so he could keep checking in on Simon, too. It had been a thrill to his system when the omega had asked for his hoodie, presumably to add to his nest – an honor, really. Soap had worried that his scent would rub off on the bedding that he’d collected for Simon, but apparently he needn’t have bothered. The way that the omega had snatched the jacket out of his hand had said everything he needed to know, really. And to later return, hearing the ragged moans that Simon had huffing out, barely muffled? It had been a slight struggle to keep his head, but he hadn’t dared to push and potentially overstep.

But now that he had been given a taste and knew that the attention was probably welcome, he wanted more.

Which meant giving another proper attempt at getting to know Simon.

So, more successfully this time, he put together a small bouquet for Simon’s parlor. Nothing too fancy, but he did his best to make something that would fit in with the tattoo parlor’s aesthetic. White and dark blue flowers, some that were dyed a velvety purple, a twisting curl of green among the stems to accentuate, all settled into a tall, thin, dark vase.

Then he had to take a minute to physically shake out his mounting nerves, settling himself with the thought that he’d need to see Simon again anyway, if he wanted to get his hoodie back. Though, he couldn’t deny that it was tempting to just… let the man keep it, even if he doubted that it would fit Simon’s frame properly. He’d be happy enough just knowing the omega had it in his nest, something to remind him of Soap, something to comfort him as he slept, curled up and cozy in his nest…

Soap shook that thought out of his head, too. He could ponder on such things later, once he established whether or not Simon’s interest was a misplaced product of his heat or not.

Only once he had thoroughly shook out all his nerves did he step out of his shop for his usual lunch hour, flowers in hand. This time he really did feel like an anxious teen, stressing over their first date, fussing over his hair in the reflection of his shop’s windows for a couple of seconds before tearing himself away. If he didn’t get over there now, he never would – so he steeled his nerves and started moving, pulling the door to Simon’s parlor open with purpose.

It was quiet inside for the most part – a speaker in the corner playing The Clash at a volume that allowed for easy conversation, but the waiting room was empty of any people.

That was, until Simon stepped out of his work room, shoving his phone into his back pocket. It looked like he was going to say something, his expression neutral at best, all business – until he met Soap’s eyes and stopped in his tracks.

“Oh- Johnny.”

“Hey there,” Soap greeted him, smiling automatically. “Are you busy? I was just going to check in – drop these off, at least.” He lifted the vase of flowers in indication.

“No… no, not right now. Just waiting till my next client comes in.”

“Right. What kind of tattoo are they getting?”

“One on his skin,” Simon answered, his voice dry and startlingly serious.

It took Soap off-guard for a long moment, and he nearly nodded in unquestioning agreement- but then the words caught up to him and he instead barked a sudden laugh. “Oh, aye, rather than on on his hair, right?”

“Hey, hair art is a real thing. It just requires a bit more bleaching.”

Soap chuckled, shaking his head as he reached out to offer the flowers to the omega. “Alright, alright… I meant what kind of design you’re making for him. I haven’t seen your work, I’m curious.”

Simon hummed, giving him a considering look. “He’s getting some dragon wings done,” he answered eventually, his eyes dropping to the counter. He stepped over to pick up a thick binder that held page after page of designs as examples. Some were just the design itself, others were pictures of people modeling their new tattoos.

It was an interesting mix of styles – almost all were done in black ink, ranging from delicate lining of almost tribal-like designs, others in heavy, almost complete blackout pieces that flowed into wispy smoke tendrils. There were blades, dragons, skeletal animals, smoking skulls, monstrous eyes, nebula-like swirls of black smoke and stars, and – funnily enough – a surprising prevalence of floral pieces, big and small.

“These are amazing,” Soap said, after flipping through a handful of pages. “You’re a really dynamic artist, you make all of these yourself?”

“With some inspiration, of course.” Simon shrugged, and Soap couldn’t help but eye him a bit. He hadn’t exactly been able to see much, but the omega did have tattoos. He just hadn’t been able to see them much, between the omega’s insistence on wearing long sleeves and the way that he had kept the door shut tightly during his flash heat.

“What kind of tattoos do you have, then?”

Simon gave him a bemused look, but huffed a quiet laugh and pulled up one of his sleeves, presenting an arm that had largely been covered – curls of barbed wire, a hand holding a bloody knife, a snarling canine with a mouthful of flowers that Soap recognized as nightshade – the only hint of color on the entire arm being the delicate purple petals.

Soap had to bite down on the urge to touch, simply leaning closer to get a good look, eyes wide as he took in the piece of art that Simon had made his body, between the actual ink and the obvious care that he gave to his body as a whole.

“Gorgeous,” Soap mumbled – going pink when it pulled more of a proper laugh out of Simon before the omega pulled away again.

“Not really. I’ve been thinking of getting them covered up, but…” he shrugged, spreading his hands.

“Why? They look amazing.”

“Mm. They aren’t terrible, I just got them when I was a stupid little shit, trying to look hard when I didn’t need to.”

Soap hummed, eyes drifting over the mouthful of nightshade held between the sharp fangs of the canine. “Not to say that it’s not hard, but I wouldn’t expect you to like flowers so much.”

Simon shrugged again. “What can I say? Plants can be pretty metal.”

That got a laugh out of Soap himself, mouth pulled into a grin. “Yeah, they can be. Say – how long until your client comes?”

“About an hour, why?”

“Perfect. Mind if I stick around for a while?”

Simon gave another soft huff of a laugh. “Go ahead, Johnny. I’m not gonna stop you.”

~~~

Soap stuck around for his lunch hour, flipping through more of Simon’s art book, talking with the man. Despite how serious the artist seemed at times, Soap found that Simon was actually quite hilarious. His jokes always came out dry and matter-of-fact, eyes flicking upwards to meet and search Soap’s, as if to make sure the joke landed.

At some point they even got onto to the topic of flowers and the meaning behind them, where Soap was forced to admit that he didn’t actually know the meaning of more than a small handful – where, surprisingly, Simon seemed to be much more well-informed.

“Most people don’t actually care about the meaning of a bouquet, especially if they’re going for a specific color for an event, or just getting a bundle of someone’s favorite,” he explained with a laugh, waving his hands as he attempted to defend himself.

Simon just looked at him, a faint smile apparent in his eyes, and shrugged. “Guess that’s true. And I guess people are going to care more when it’s something that’s going to be on their skin forever.”

“And what about you, then? The nightshade. Does it mean something special?”

The omega had fixed him with a sardonic look. “Well, Johnny, it’s not called deadly for nothing, is it?”

It had given Soap an idea, at the very least. Something that stuck in his head even after Simon's client had come, even after Soap heard the omega arrive home, just next door to his own flat. For the first time in years, Soap found himself breaking out his woefully under-used sketchbook as he strained his ears to listen for the sound of Simon moving around his flat, making himself dinner, maybe putting on some music or a movie of some sort.

All good questions to ask the omega, the next time he saw the man, especially given the fact that Soap couldn’t hear much from Simon’s side of the wall – just the occasional thump of cabinets closing or the clang of the hanging pots that Soap had spied when he had stepped through the space.

There was so much to learn about the man – and he still hadn’t gotten his hoodie back, now that he thought about it. Just another easy excuse to see Simon, which brought a smile to Soap’s face as his pencil scratched over the paper with gentle movements.

And, with what he was planning, he’d have plenty of time to ask the questions he had in mind.

~~~

The next morning, Soap set up his shop, feeling his nerves starting to bubble up as time seemed to crawl onward, waiting for his usual lunch hour to come along. Knowing that Simon was just next door made him feel jittery, excitement and dread warring in his gut. Of course, he was fairly sure that what he was planning wouldn't be that big of a deal, but there was no telling if Simon himself would have any boundaries about it.

And, once again, he took a minute to actually talk himself through the nerves once his lunch came – at least getting through it enough to shut the door of his shop behind him.

Then he was walking into Simon’s parlor – though, this time there was already someone in the waiting area, a heavily pierced woman who barely glanced up at Soap before returning to her phone. It made him hesitate, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to interrupt Simon’s work, but… he also didn’t want to wait to talk to him, either, when his nerves were making him feel like he was ready to jump out of his skin.

He was still hovering just inside the door, trying to figure out what to do, when Simon stepped out of his work room, peeling off black nitrile gloves in a motion that had no reason to be as attractive as it was, tossing them into the bin in the corner.

“Johnny?” Simon asked, one eyebrow raising. He was wearing another face mask, this one with a jawbone print on it, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Something you needed?

“Ah- sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-”

“It’s fine. ‘M just taking a break, my guy needs a moment to cool down.”

Soap nodded, opening his mouth before pausing again. “I- um. When are you going to be free today?”

Simon hummed in thought, glancing towards the woman that was patiently waiting. “Honestly I’ll probably be pretty busy today. What… what were you planning?”

For a moment, Soap very nearly waved it off entirely, preferring to avoid inconveniencing the man entirely, but he swallowed it down and shifted on his feet, forcing a quick grin. “Well, I was kinda hoping to get a tattoo, actually.”

He could see the way Simon’s eyebrows rose in tandem with momentary surprise, but otherwise the man didn’t seem to perturbed. “Well, you did come to the right place for that. You want to talk later, figure out a design?”

“Um… I actually already have something figured out, if you’re alright with that. I think your style would be good for it?”

“Oh? What do you have, then? Do you have a picture?”

Soap nodded, pulling out his phone, getting his gallery pulled up and quickly finding the picture that he’d taken of his sketch last night. It was fairly simple – a chain of daisies in a faintly waving line. “I was thinking of an arm band with this? Up here?” He gripped his own arm to showcase the location, high up on his bicep, and Simon gave him a considering look, nodding along. “You can- you can also redraw it if you’d like, I don’t mind. I’m not the best artist. This was just for show.”

“It looks fine, Johnny,” Simon soothed with a smile. “I might redraw it just to get a feel for it, since I’m more accustomed to bigger flowers, mostly, so practicing with something smaller can’t hurt.” Then the omega reached out, lifting his sleeve slightly to look at the skin underneath. “Any scars? Anything to plan around?”

“Nah, not there,” Soap’s face almost hurt with how hard he found himself grinning, delighted to have gotten what he wanted so readily, fighting the urge to shiver at the touch. “Uh- when do you think you’ll be open for it?”

“I’m pretty booked today, and tomorrow I’ll be having my dragon wing guy back in, but…” Simon hummed, pulling out his own phone. “Are you planning on keeping your place open over the weekend? I can plan to do it after you close up tomorrow, or you can just come by in the evening, if that works for you.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s perfect, great-” Soap had to swallow back his words, catching the flicker of a look the woman in the corner gave them. “I’ll- well. I’m good any time that’s good for you, really.”

Simon nodded, staring at him for a moment. “Give me your number and sent that photo to me. I’ll get some practice in before bed.”

Another thrill shot through Soap, and it felt for a moment like he was nothing more than a bobblehead as he nodded along – before he caught himself and obediently rattled off his number for Simon, who quickly sent him a simple skull emoji.

“Do you, ah- do you mind if I hang out while you work? I’m just taking my lunch break.” Was it a bit pathetic to be so hungry to spend time together? Maybe. Soap didn’t care.

But Simon hummed, giving a quiet chuckle as he shook his head. “Not this time, Johnny. My current guy has his pants around his ankles, not sure how he’d feel flashing just anyone who came through the door.”

Soap laughed, though the thought of anything that required Soap to get so close to someone so obviously unclothed made Soap’s blood run a degree hotter, something uncomfortable squirming in his belly. “Alright, yeah, point taken.”

“Thank you for your definitely very necessary understanding,” Simon said, voice going purposefully dry. It pulled a laugh from Soap once more now that he recognized the tone as a joke from the omega, and it made Simon’s eyes squint up with his own smile in turn. “But I should probably get back to it… I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you,” Soap said with a smile, watching as the omega turned away with an awkward wave, once again disappearing into his work room.

It left Soap standing there with a stupid grin – until he once again registered the woman sitting in her chair looking his way, flushing red as she flashed him a grin and a thumbs up. The threat of being perceived made him stutter out a painfully awkward goodbye that had him cringing, almost making him want to hide his face as he ducked out of the parlor and scuttled back over to his own shop.

Still, he couldn’t help the grin that was stuck on his face once he stepped into the shop, surrounded by flowers and greenery – bubbling through him until he had to bounce on his toes and do a little shimmy to dispel all the extra energy that suddenly consumed him.

He’d successfully secured at least an hour of Simon’s time, in close proximity – the perfect time to really get to chat and get to know him.

~~~

Simon hummed as he sketched out another twisting stem, following the general shape that Johnny had set out for him, gently curving back and forth – thickening at the receptacle before it was covered by the sepal, and then the petals.

Given their conversation the day before, he wasn’t sure if the alpha knew of the meaning and significance of daisies. They were simple flowers, common enough, easy to love after all.

But as he’d learned over his time working as an artist, listening to clients rambling as he worked, daisies were… sweet. A fitting flower for Johnny, after the experience of his flash heat. A flower that was meant to represent innocence, joy – or loyalty, in more antiquated times. All perfect for an alpha that had taken care of him so well, going so far out of his way to provide.

Ghost almost started himself when he heard the rumble that started in his own throat, pleased at the thought of marking Johnny with some of his own art, something made by his own hand – something that fit him so well. With how tanned the alpha’s skin was, too… he’d wear it well, he just knew it.

~~~

Soap was once again nearly vibrating as he stepped into Simon’s parlor. He’d worked himself up yet again, unable to just shake out the nerves this time. Mentally, he had a list of topics, questions, and general things to talk about if Simon decided that he didn’t want to talk while he was working. Physically, he had a couple of meals for the two of them, just in case Simon wanted to eat – and Soap had also worn a sleeveless shirt, just to make it easier for the man to work.

But, contrary to his hopeful half-plan of eating with the man, he found Simon standing at the counter, a cup of ramen in hand. The omega gave him a seemingly startled look and hurried to slurp up the noodles that he’d had on his fork.

“Ah- Johnny, sorry, I was just going to eat so my hands don’t start shaking-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I- actually I brought some food, I kind of assumed that neither of us would’ve eaten by now.” Which- fuck. Had he assumed too much? Would Simon even like what he’d made? Simon had previously said that he wasn’t picky, but everybody had things that they didn’t like.

But at the mention of food, Simon seemed to perk up, tilting his head, turning to face Soap fully. It allowed him a full view of the man’s face for the first time, which had him pausing, stunned to silence for a long moment.

He’d seen glimpses of the man’s face through the door during that flash heat, but he hadn’t been able to get a good look, not like he could now. And Simon- christ, he was beautiful. A strong jaw, thin lips, a couple of scars scattered over his skin, one slashing over his cheek from the corner of his lips and giving him a harsher look that Soap thought he deserved – not that it ruined or disrupted his beauty at all, in his opinion.

“What did you bring?” Simon’s question broke him out of his thoughts, and Soap physically shook himself out of his trance.

“Ah, it’s just chicken pasta and roasted potatoes, if that’s alright?”

Simon gave a pleased rumble, setting down his ramen cup. “That sound brilliant. Probably better to eat some actual food, anyway.”

“If you’re still hungry, go for it.” Soap grinned, setting the bag on the counter, pulling out the two tupperware containers – one of which Simon took with a curious, eager look.

“Definitely. I haven’t really eaten much today,” Simon said offhandedly, popping open the lid of the container and giving the contents a quick sniff as he stepped over to the microwave settled into the corner of the counter.

But the comment had Soap frowning slightly. “You haven’t?”

“I’m not the best at remembering to eat. I get settled in for big pieces and just kind of…” Simon shrugged, settling the time on the microwaving and starting it. “Forget. I don’t really feel the need to eat until someone puts food in front of me.”

Soap hummed, filing that information away in his head. “You don’t have any lunch break set out? What do your clients do when they need to eat during those long sessions?”

“I usually have some other people scheduled with smaller pieces that I can finish while the other is cooling down.

Soap frowned a bit more. “Well, you should change that. That can’t be good for you, especially if you’re getting to the point of your hands getting all shaky.”

“Maybe.” Simon simply shrugged. “I just…” A moment of silence, before he gave another shrug. “It’s just habit by now, really. It works well enough for me.”

“Would it help if I came by during my own lunch hour?” Soap asked, tilting his head as Simon met his eyes for a short moment before his gaze flicked away again.

“You don’t have to do that, Johnny.”

“I want to. It’s either that or I end up calling Gaz while I eat, and he’s usually busy enough that he can’t really spare me the attention to actually talk.”

Simon seemed to flounder for a moment, before his gaze fixed onto Soap for a long moment instead. “I… I suppose, if you don’t mind. Is your lunch hour when you’ve been coming over?”

“Aye, so you don’t have to get used to anything more than what you’ve been dealing with already.”

The man hummed, nodding slowly as the microwave finished – Simon took out his food and reached out to take Soap’s in turn, setting it for the same time. “I guess that’s doable. Gives me more reason to actually remember to make myself a lunch, I guess.”

Soap bit his tongue, barely suppressing his automatic urge to offer to make Simon lunches as well. He had a feeling that Simon liked being independent more than anything, so there was a chance that any coddling that he did wouldn’t be welcome. But… maybe, just maybe, he could bring some extra food. Just in case. “I’ll see you for lunch, then. Do you usually work over the weekends ?”

“Only for appointments. I don’t have anything tomorrow, though. No need to come and sweep me off my feet just yet.” Simon gave him a smile, sarcastic and indulgent and small, and Soap felt his heart give an embarrassingly intense thump in his chest.

He just mumbled a distracted, “yeah, alright,” lost in his staring as the omega dug into his food – until the microwave again beeped and tore his attention away again.

“Hurry and eat, and I'll show you what I’ve done with your design,” Simon told him, shoveling another mouthful of sauce-covered pasta into his mouth.

Soap grinned, retrieving his food and digging a fork out of the bag he’d brought. “Yessir. Don’t have to tell me twice.”

~~~

While Soap didn’t think that he was by any means amazing at art, he knew he was fairly decent at some things. And yet, Simon’s touch had brought his little sketch to life as something that was a true piece of art, adding detail and depth to it that Soap knew he was utterly incapable of.

It had him grinning as Simon wrapped his hand around his bicep to get a feel for the size of it, nodding after a second and adjusting the scale of the stencil he was printing out.

“Do you want it to be continuous? All the way around, no breaks?”

“I mean, I don’t care too much either way, honestly. If the stencil is a bit short, we can just hide the ends under my arm, right?”

“Is that what you want, though? I can freehand a connecting bit.”

Soap hummed. “I… well. I don’t know.”

“We can leave it open if needed, and if you hate it later… well, you know where I am.”

Soap smiled at that, nodding as Simon plucked up his stencil and quickly cut the paper down to size, wrapping it around Soap’s arm. His movements were professional and quick, efficient in how he got the paper wetted down, waiting exactly long enough for the design to be transferred onto Soap’s arm, before it was peeled away. Then Simeon gave him a push, standing in front of the mirror in the man’s back work room.

“How do you like that, then? Look good?”

“I think so, what about from your angle?” Soap threw a grin at Simon over his shoulder, where the omega was standing with his arms folded.

“Good from here.” Then Simon met his eyes and gave a faint smile. He hadn’t even replaced his mask, making Soap’s heart flutter with every little expression that he could finally see in their entirety. “You ready to start, then?”

“Ready if you are.”

With that, the two of them got settled into their designated seats – Simon sitting just barely hunched, Soap letting his elbow rest on the arm rest of the chair as Simon worked. It was silent for a few minutes, just the buzz of the tattoo gun going, before Soap felt like he was settled enough to speak up.

“Y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask…”

Simon paused, pulling the buzzing gun away just an inch as he hummed curiously. “What’s that?”

“What kind of music do you listen to?”

One of Simon’s eyebrows rose, but he just hummed. “Guess I can put something on, if you’re interested.”

“Want to trade off, while we’re here?” Soap smiled hopefully – he wouldn’t mind just listening to Simon’s music, but he liked being able to share his own music, too.

“Sure. Add your stuff to the queue.” Simon shrugged, opening his phone and starting up a playlist that began playing through the speakers in the room. Then he handed the device over – waiting for Soap to transfer the phone to his other hand before going back to work. Soap, for his part, naturally snooped through the queue to see what he was working with, smiling at what he found. 80’s rock, MCR, The Cure, Depeche Mode – and a few songs that had inexplicably lo-fi vibes just based on their titles. Definitely something that he could work with, make into conversation.

So, he smiled and started searching for the songs that came to mind.

~~~

The tattoo came out beautifully, Ghost had to admit. Johnny had sat pretty for it too, barely squirming even when the buzzing of the tattoo gun made him obviously want to squirm. He was careful to steady his laughs when the man had dragged the conversation out enough to get Ghost to start cracking jokes, careful to not mess up his work.

And, just as Ghost had thought, the delicate flowers lined out in black looked amazing against Johnny’s skin, making out a sweet symbol on the alpha’s skin, a declaration of his character to anyone that happened to know and understand the significance of the flowers.

To have been the one that had been trusted with the task of putting that art on Johnny’s skin… it was a deeper sense of satisfaction than Ghost was used to getting from even his biggest projects. That sense of accomplishment didn’t fade either, in the following days – not when Johnny showed him the way it was healing so cleanly, looking perfect still after the initial swelling. No signs of the lines getting blown out, no infection, no sloppy shading that came out in post.

Ghost was glad for the excuse that it gave him, when Johnny continued to catch him staring at the alpha, any time he got a moment to do so.

At least for a little while, he could motion for Johnny to lift his sleeve and show him the tattoo, pretending to check it over for the man. Until, all of a sudden, it had been weeks – days and days of Johnny coming in every day at half past noon, inevitably sharing the too-big lunch that the alpha brought with him, and Johnny was calling him a mother hen for checking on his tattoo still.

That was the end of that excuse, but it seemed like the alpha just knew the way that Ghost craved, needing the touch even after that – and so Johnny suddenly made a habit of leaning close as he shared silly videos on his phone, as he shared photos of the plants that he was growing for the season, as he talked to Ghost or the clients that were taking Ghost’s new lunch hour to cool down from the constant pounding of the tattoo gun.

Johnny had also made a habit of coming by after he had closed up shop for the night, sitting and chatting or just hanging out while he waited for Ghost to finish work, just so they could walk home together.

And, despite the rough, accidental first walk home together, when Ghost had so badly misread Johnny’s intentions, Ghost quite enjoyed having the alpha with him for the walk now. It was a nice way to wind down after a day of work, even if separating to walk into their own flats felt like a disappointment sometimes. There had been enough times that they had stood in the hallway of the building to talk, wasting away the start of their evening without ever inviting each other inside.

But… that was a hurdle that Ghost hadn’t yet managed to push himself over, as much as he wanted to.

It had been years since he had invited anyone more than a casual one-night stand into his place, and they only stayed for as long as their knots lasted, generally. It wasn’t for… what, just a drink? Conversation? Ghost didn’t know how to be a host, he’d never had much of an example to learn from.

But, once again, Ghost found that he didn’t have to take that step – not when Johnny gave him a small smile as the conversation stalled for a moment, the topic lost with a moment of distraction.

“You know, if you’re up for it,” Johnny started, pausing for just a moment to wet his lips and shift nervously on his feet." “If you’d like, I have a bottle of wine my sister passed off onto me. I wouldn't mind the company, if you want to keep talking?”

Another lucky break for Ghost, who nodded easily enough, deciding to not overthink it too much. “Alright, sounds good.”

Johnny gave him a grin, and he led the way over to his own door, unlocking it deftly. “I- well, um. Hope you don’t mind, dinner might take just a minute, I gotta take care of some of my plants before I can start, but it shouldn’t take too long?”

“Do you want some help? I don’t mind.” Ghost followed him in, pausing when he saw… well, exactly why Johnny would have to warn him about it taking a while.

There was, without exaggeration, an entire wall of greenery. Vines trailing over shelves, more climbing almost floor to ceiling, tropical plants that Ghost had only seen in magazine adverts, massive leaves practically leaping from the frames they were tied to. Perfect little succulents, plants with stark pinks and reds and dappled yellows that seemed to mimic the look of sunlight coming through tree cover, random splotches of brilliant white.

“Ah… maybe? I’ll see if I can find something that isn’t too messy, I don’t want you to have to work any more than you have already.”

Ghost snorted at that, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Speak for yourself. You’re the one that actually works with plants, remember?”

“Aye, sure, but with these lasses? These ones are different,” Johnny said with a grin.

“Yeah? How so?”

He saw the way that Johnny stalled and floundered at that, mouth opening and closing for a moment. “I- well, that’s-”

Ghost just laughed quietly, waving him on. “C’mon. Find me some work and explain as we go, hm?”

At that, Johnny almost froze entirely, before he seemed to reanimate and nod with a delighted grin playing over his lips as he turned towards the wall of plants. “Right, well. The pothos needs to be repotted pretty badly, but I can take care of that…”

~~~

All in all, Simon didn’t actually have to do much. He had tried to help, but Soap couldn’t keep himself from hovering like a nervous parent over each task, whether it be wetting down soil or mixing fertilizer.

But Simon, even if he didn’t do much, had seemed to be fairly interested. He’d taken to instead hovering at Soap’s shoulder, watching him work, letting Soap ramble about each plant in turn. He’d even asked some questions, staying engaged past what Soap knew must be actually interesting for most people. It meant that everything took even longer than he’d expected, but by the time that he’d gotten done, Ghost was still standing by his plant shelves, tracing the edge of the leaf of one of his heartleafs, looking rather charmed.

He could only hope that Simon didn’t hold all his plants against him, when Soap wasn’t able to get dinner done until late into the evening, but when he mentioned it, Simon just waved a hand dismissively.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s honestly impressive, I usually just hear about people killing houseplants. I didn’t realize how much work it takes.”

It sent Soap into a whole other rant about how he got into keeping houseplants, the kind of research that he had done for so long before eventually giving up on trying to do everything perfectly. Simon still listened as he ate, smiling as Soap grumbled about the contrary advice that was everywhere.

And the night just… kept on like that. They sat, they ate, they drank their wine. Simon shared some stories of nightmarishly picky clients, and Soap moaned about the last-minute wedding orders he’d gotten as commissions, only accepted because of the payout. Eventually the wine hit enough that Soap could trace the flush of it over Simon’s cheeks, almost entirely distracting him from the conversation until Simon dragged him back in.

It was a good night, and Soap could feel the moment that his heart lurched with such force that he just knew, looking at Simon’s face as the omega tipped his head back, loose with his drunkenness, and laughed. He knew that his infatuation with Simon wasn’t just proximity and an ongoing crush on the man.

No… no, it was so much more than that.

The thought was a little intimidating, but at the same time, Simon had finally given his hoodie back only a week before. Clearly, there was something there. And if Simon was allowing it… well. Soap wouldn’t look that gift horse in the mouth.

~~~

Johnny was a good host. He knew how to pour drinks often enough to keep Ghost loose, but not so much that he felt uncomfortably out of control. Dinner had been delicious, a simple spaghetti from sauce that he had apparently already made. Even shadowing Soap around as he talked about his plants had been endearing and fascinating in equal measures. Ghost wasn’t sure if he’d ever known so much about plants in his life, but he’d definitely been thoroughly educated on the annoyance of trying to find information on cheap grow lights.

Johnny was a good man in general. A good alpha, he was reminded once again. Sweet, helpful, eager and mindful of anything that seemed to even be a potential risk of making Ghost uncomfortable. If he could ever have a legitimate interest in Ghost, he’d take it up in a heartbeat, but… well.

He’d seen the hints of interest that the alpha had shown, weeks ago, during his flash heat. But when his own scent had been clogging up the shop, no doubt getting Johnny’s instincts all twisted up into the mess, Ghost wasn’t sure of the man’s true interest. Not entirely.

Truthfully, Ghost was more certain that Johnny was just trying to be a good neighbor. Watching out for the person next to him, the one that was new and clearly didn’t have much of a support system otherwise. Though, to be fair to himself, being a good neighbor didn’t mean that Johnny couldn’t be interested in him otherwise.

Ghost wasn’t sure. He wasn’t the best judge of intention when it came to matters of romantics, seeing as he’d never really experienced such things. He’d fought for so long in his life to keep other people at arms length, too scared of letting anyone too close…

He’d never been courted, never really been on a date. The most experience he could say he’d had were the times where people wanted to share a couple drinks before leaving the bar, chat and get to know him a bit. But even that was superficial, a double check that Ghost wasn’t an obvious freak before they either left with him or decided to back out.

It wasn’t anything like Johnny had been doing, desperately trying to fit himself into Ghost’s life, into a role of a helper in every conceivable way, always eager and kind.

He’d heard the things behind Johnny’s words though, when he shook off apologies and thanks in equal measure, acting as if nothing that he did or what happened to him was a big deal. The self-depreciation that Ghost was sure lurked behind that eagerness, as if the man somehow thought that everything that he did still wasn’t enough.

That frustrated Ghost, made him want to shake some sense in the alpha, convince him that anybody would be lucky to have him…

“Falling asleep on me?” Johnny’s voice roused him, and Ghost found himself blinking his eyes open.

“Mm, fuck- what time is it?” He pulled his head up from where it had drooped to rest on the back of the couch. The wine had made him groggy, he wasn’t sure what he had missed that Johnny could’ve been saying.

Johnny grabbed up his phone as Ghost wiped a hand over his eyes, the alpha’s eyes pursing in surprise for a second before he answered. “Ah, shite. Almost one-thirty, I’m sorry-”

Ghost waved him off before he could get into it. “It’s fine, I’ve done this to myself. Not the latest I’ve stayed up.”

“Oh, aye, I’m sure – bastard like you probably lives for the night life, huh? I’ve seen how late you open shop.” Johnny gave him a teasing grin, before he was suddenly taken by a yawn that seemed to legitimately surprise him, though he also laughed when Ghost echoed it with a middle finger pointed at the alpha.

“Fuck off… I should probably head off, though.” Ghost sat up more, stretching his arms over his head with a strained groan.

“Aye, I should probably get to bed as well. Got some things to put together at the shop tomorrow.” Johnny shifted, watching Ghost move to stand, following suit with a quiet grunt, shifting and twisting his body until his knee gave a somewhat concerning pop. Then he followed the omega to the door, opening it for him. “You’ll be alright getting home?”

Ghost couldn’t help but bark a laugh, too loud for the late hour, echoing down the hallway. “My door is thirty feet away, Johnny. I’m starting to think you’re the clingy type.”

In turn, Johnny went a damnably adorable pink at that – stuttering for a moment before he gave Ghost a half-hearted shove to his shoulder. “Fuck off, I just wanna make sure you’re not about to fall asleep in the hall, big guy. Could end up killing someone if they tripped over you.”

Ghost managed to keep his laugh to a quiet chuckle, letting his eyes roam over Johnny’s face, the flush that lingered on his cheeks and rose high, all the way to his ears, even down to his neck to disappear beneath the edge of his shirt. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you, Simon.” Johnny gave him another sweet smile, and waved as Ghost turned down the hall – and yet, staying there until Ghost stopped at his own door and looked back.

The insistence pulled a quiet laugh from Ghost, once again, and he called with a voice low enough that it hopefully wouldn’t bother their neighbors.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

“Goodnight, Simon.” And, before the door could shut behind him, “sleep well.”

~~~

Drinking the night before had definitely been a mistake, but thankfully it was a Saturday and Soap didn’t actually open to customers until eleven. He at least had the morning to sit around, cutting stems and tying bundles of flowers, all his usual weekly inventory tasks and commission prep time. It was usually pretty calming work when he didn’t have to worry about other people walking in and trying to ask questions. He could settle in and focus on all the little details of his bouquets, put on some music, and lose himself for at least a couple hours.

At least – he usually could.

Except that for today there was someone knocking at the door. Probably someone that had seen him walk in and assumed that meant that the shop was open for business.

Once, twice, and by the third round of knocking Soap simply put his headphones in to block it out, even if it didn’t let him hear the crunch of stems between his scissors. He’d learned that if he went to the door, or if the person outside even just saw him in the main room, they probably wouldn’t leave at all.

But then – his phone pinged with a message, and he grumbled in further annoyance as his focus was ruined once more.

To his surprise though, it was a message from Simon.

Simon: Johnny

Simon: Come to the door.

Stumbling up to his feet, nearly knocking over his stool, Soap hurried out to the main room – and sure enough Simon was there in a hoodie, a beanie pulled over his curls in the light fog of the dewy morning outside. He looked almost as tired as Soap felt, but Soap could still see the smile that Simon sent his way beneath the mask as he opened the door.

“Simon-?” Soap tried to start, flabbergasted.

“Finally, I was about to head home if I couldn’t get to you.” Simon nudged him aside to step into the shop, glancing around curiously. In his hand he held a small cardboard to-go box.

“I- what are you here for? I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Soap watched him and noted the way that Simon’s cheeks tinted pink over the edge of his mask. He was momentarily hit with the urge to press his tongue to that hint of color on Simon’s pale skin and almost froze entirely, having to reboot and catch up to what Simon was saying as the to-go box was pressed into his hands.

“Sorry if I’m getting in the way of your work. I just thought that I’d stop by… I also had that left over from breakfast, if you wanted it.” He nodded to box that Soap now held.

Soap felt his heart skip a beat, as he opened the box to find a pastry, something light and flaky with a red jam spilling out of it. “I- no, you’re fine. I just thought that you’d be sleeping in after last night.”

Simon shrugged. “I don’t tend to sleep all that much, honestly. I’ve… already been up for a while.”

“Really? You still look a bit knackered, if I’m honest.” Soap frowned, unable to keep himself from worrying at the circles under Simon’s eyes.

“I’m fine, really. Like I said last night, it wasn’t the latest that I’ve been up. I-” Simon stopped, his face shifting under his mask for a moment, before he spoke with purposeful clarity – something that Soap had started to pick up on when the omega was struggling to say what he actually wanted. It had Soap listening a bit closer, instinctively dialing in to please the other man. “I was going to ask if there’s anything that I an help with here?”

“Here?” Soap asked, surprised. He hadn’t expected Simon to come by at all, much less to ask to help him with anything. And if Soap was right and he was so worried about asking about that… something about it felt strange, in a way that he couldn’t put his finger on.

But Simon nodded, firm and direct, meeting Soap’s eyes without daring to waver. “Yeah. I don’t have any appointments today, and I’ve already gotten this week’s inventory done, so… if there’s anything I could help with over here…”

Soap felt just like he did last night – a little taken off guard, a little overwhelmed, a little over-warm as Simon gave him that legitimate interest in what Soap was doing. It felt nice to have someone give his plants more than a passing morsel of attention.

“I- yeah, I can find something for you to do.” This, at least, was a bit easier than trying to trust someone else with the plants that he’d been cultivating and taking care of for years now. Gaz sometimes helped him in the shop anyway, so Soap knew that he had some tasks that he could hand off to someone with little to no experience.

Simon seemingly relaxed at the confirmation, giving Soap another smile. “Great. Just… show me what to do.”

~~~

That morning’s focus never truly returned, but Soap couldn’t find the will to complain, when he got to spend the time until opening with Simon. The omega was quiet in the early hours, a different kind of silence than he had when he was focused in on his art.

Soap spent the time teaching Simon how to sort through flowers, how to listen to the sound of stems being cut to tell which ones were soft with oncoming rot, how to tie together bouquets without shuffling the composition that he laid out too much. He spent far too much of that time staring at Simon as he tried very hard to listen to his instructions, finding ways and reasons to touch Simon’s hands, carefully guiding his fingers on how to hold the bundles of flowers, how to tie a knot with the perfect tension. He didn't even know how long it had been, until Soap was jumping as his phone suddenly started blaring with his eleven o’clock alarm to open the shop.

“Ah- guess I should open the front. You- feel free to go whenever you like, really. Or you can stay back here, I won’t make you deal with customers.” Soap smiled at Simon, and the man nodded back.

“I don’t have anything to do today, anyway,” Simon said with a shrug, continuing to tie the bouquet that he was working on.

Soap smiled at the thought of having Simon around for a while longer and nodded himself. “Sounds good… I’ll leave you to it, then.”

~~~

Simon had stayed for nearly the entire day, sharing Soap’s lunch with only a slightly bemused, accusing look when he saw that Soap had packed a much more normal-sized, ‘single’ portion than what he had taken to making for the two of them when he would expect Simon’s company. It was obvious enough that he knew that Soap had been packing extra just to justify feeding the omega his extras.

But even after that day, Simon kept stopping by in the morning. Sometimes he would help Soap, sometimes he would just sit at the register counter and watch Soap work with a bleary look as he sipped his morning tea. He’d still be wiping the sleep from his eyes by the time Soap actually unlocked the door for customers, sleepy and adorable.

It made Soap feel giddy anytime he saw Simon like that, soft and sweet despite his grumbling, rolling his eyes anytime that Soap tried to remind him that he didn’t need to get up early to join him in the morning.

As the weeks passed, Simon even started to come to him for recommendations, placing some plants with dark green foliage in the waiting area of the parlor. It gave Soap even more excuses to spend time there, occasionally bringing his sketchbook to work out new color combinations for his bouquets, watching as Simon worked on his clients. He even got to know some of those clients, especially when one would come in for big pieces or several different smaller ones. A few of them even ended up wandering over to his little flower shop occasionally, delighted with the friendship between the two shop owners.

Sometimes he choked on his need for more than just friendship, but it never quite felt like the right time to do something about it.

So, Soap let it go for a while. Shared space with Simon, shared food, shared some of each other’s work.

Until he finally decided to take that step, when he suddenly realized that it had been half a year since Simon had moved in next door.

~~~

Soap was out with Gaz when it finally happened, wandering around with the other alpha as Gaz tried to find something new to wear. At least, that had been the original purpose of the trip. They’d been walking around and goofing off for the last half hour, finding the funniest shirts the big box store had to offer, when Soap stopped, his eyes catching on a hoodie being displayed on the top half of a mannequin.

It looked damnably comfortable, over-large on the mannequin, with the sleeves barely covering the plastic fingers of the figure. It looked like the perfect thing to stay cozy in, especially with the weather turning colder like it had, even if he didn’t really need a new hoodie…

“Gonna get it, or are you just going to stare?” Gaz bumped his shoulder against Soap’s with a smirk.

Soap grumbled quietly, but shrugged and stepped to the row of hangers, sorting through the identical hoodies for the right size. Technically he wore a large, but he liked his hoodies a bit bigger for comfort, and…

He felt himself flush under Gaz’s attention when he thumbed at the 2XL tag.

“That seems like it’s a bit extra, mate,” his friend stated, raising an eyebrow at Soap. “You sure? Unless… is this actually meant for you, or…?” He gave Soap a look as understanding spread over his face, before a wide smirk chased after it.

Gaz had met Simon weeks ago at the floral shop, while the omega was stretching to help the baby plants that Soap had rooting out of the way. He knew just how big of a man Simon was, and… well, the hoodie would probably be a bit big even on him, but Soap couldn’t help but think that Simon deserved to swim in some damnably soft fabric every once in a while, too. He’d never seen Simon in anything more than the snug-fitting leather jacket that he usually wore, or the zip-up hoodie that he constantly wore open before they left their building.

Soap might die if he were ever to see Simon so cozy and bundled up, tucked into his nest.

He swallowed thickly and nodded to Gaz, flushing as the man grinned.

“Good! For fuck’s sake, it’s taken you long enough, I was close to trying to court him myself, just to see if that would get the two of you to actually do something.” The way that Gaz said it made it more than obvious that he was joking, but the thought of him actually trying to court Simon in front of Soap had a short-lived growl rumbling through him. Thankfully, Gaz only gave him a smirk. “Exactly. You’re both dumbasses.”

Soap grumbled at his friend, but he truthfully couldn’t argue with him. Had Gaz actually tried anything with Simon… just thinking about it had something feral possessive snapping its teeth in his chest. God help him if Simon had actually responded positively…

Shaking his head, he shoved at Gaz’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go pay for this, I’m done with your shit.”

“Gonna go harass Simon instead?” Gaz teased, shoving back at him.

“Gonna find someone to hand out with that appreciates my roguish charm,” Soap sneered, grinning at his friend.

“Oh yeah? Got someone hiding in your phone, someone I haven’t met?” Gaz cackled and Soap nearly pushed him into a store display, which only had them laughing harder.

“Fuck you, I don’t need anybody in my phone. Simon appreciates me just fine.”

The other alpha rolled his eyes. “Ugh, yeah he does. He’s staring at you all the time, mate. I don’t know how you’re so blind to it.”

“I- he doesn’t really like eye contact, is all. He’s just like that-” Soap was cut off by Gaz’s obvious sound of disbelief, and he threw his hands up. “I swear he is!”

“And I swear he’s not! He might not meet your eyes, but he’s staring every time you look away.”

The thought had Soap going pink, pleased at the insinuation that Simon could hardly look away from him, only careful to make sure that he wasn’t caught by Soap specifically. “Whatever you say, bawbag.”

“Exactly. Trust me on this, mate. Simon with love the hoodie, too.”

Soap just heaved a sigh as they stepped into line at the tills. “I fuckin’ hope so.”

~~~


The hoodie was a delight, really. It felt like wearing a blanket with how oversized it was on Soap. It became his favorite thing to wear in his bed, cozied up in his nest and burrowing into it, imagining what it would be like to have Simon with him.

He was careful to not make a mess of the hoodie, though, always pulling it off well before he could get off to any thoughts of the omega. The most he allowed was the occasional smear of precum that soaked through his underwear. Nothing too obvious, nothing that would be too obnoxious or forward. Soap didn’t have any reason to rush this, and… well, he’d been picking up on the fact that Simon likely had some hangups of some kind or another.

It wasn’t something that he had dared to pry at, happy to simply be allowed close to Simon, but it did make him wonder. Hopefully it would be something that he’d get to learn, if Simon accepted the hoodie as a proper scent-gift. It was the first technical step of courting, but… well, technically Soap had already been half-courting Simon for months now, making sure that he was always well-fed and provided for, as much as Soap could manage.

He just had to do a couple things properly now. Which, first and foremost, meant letting his own scent saturate the fabric of the hoodie… before gifting it to Simon.

The latter part, of course, proved to be the harder step. He wasn’t sure how to do it, as the days passed. He wasn’t sure how much ceremony to afford to such a gift – he wasn’t sure how much formality Simon would want for it.

Should he do it during their work day? In the morning, before Simon headed over to the parlor? Or maybe in the evening as they parted ways? Should he invite Simon over for dinner like he occasionally did and present the gift then?

He started wearing the hoodie tied around his waist before he left his flat, meeting a still-sleepy Simon outside the omega’s door. Thankfully, Simon never seemed to question the fabric around tied around him underneath the hoodie that he wore properly, just grumbling a quiet greeting before falling into step with him, just like he did every day.

… and, as his mind decided in a single rush, he would just gift it when the moment struck.

So, just as usual, Simon spent the morning waking up with him, nursing his cup of yea until the shop opened and Simon left to prep his own business for the day.

It was only in the afternoon, after they ate their lunch together, that Soap felt just the right surge of needless adrenaline to push him into presenting his gift to Simon, dusting off the bit of cut greenery that had gotten on it earlier before holding out the bundle of fabric.

“Uh, before I go…”

Simon hummed, turning towards him with an eyebrow raised, eyes fixating on the hoodie. “What is it?”

Soap faltered slightly as the sunlight coming in through the window caught Simon’s eyes just right, making them look soft and golden. “I just… wanted to give this to you. If you want it.” And then he peeled his gaze away, feeling his heart pound. He couldn’t help but pray to any god that was listening, hoping against hope that Simon wouldn’t reject the gift, reject him-

But Simon just gave another hum, reaching out to take the hoodie from his hand, heat blooming in Soap’s chest as his eyes snapped back up to Simon. He watched the way the omega brushed his fingers over the velvety-soft inside, before holding it up to assess the size of it.

“Looks awfully big for you, Johnny.”

“I- well, yeah.” Obviously it would have to be, in order to fit an omega of Simon’s size, something that Soap had appreciated since before he had ever learned that Simon was an omega. “It- it’s for you. I got it for you.”

Simon glanced at him for just a short moment, before his eyes fell back to the fabric in his hands. “‘S soft.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Soap tried for a smile, hopeful.

“I like it.”

That pulled a proper smile from Soap, shifting on his feet as he felt a bubble of euphoria rise in his throat. “Good- I… I’m glad you do.”

Simon gave another hum, before tilting the hoodie over and slipping it on over his head, settling it into place once he got it on. The omega seemed to get distracted then – pressing his nose into the collar, making Soap’s breath freeze in his throat as he watched Simon’s chest rise and fall with each slow, deep breath he took. He was taking in Soap’s scent from the one place it would be the most concentrated, looking so relaxed and content-

A strangled little noise left Soap’s throat before he could try to stop it, and it startled both of them out of their momentary trance, both of them turning pink as they stared at each other, until Simon broke the moment with an awkward little cough.

“Sorry- thank you, Johnny.”

“Yeah- yeah, no problem, it’s- of course.” Soap stuttered, his heart beating out of his chest with the joy that was erupting throughout his system. “I- I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later.” Simon’s eyes went soft, wrinkling around the corners with his smile, the last straw before Soap’s grin finally broke through.

He stepped onto the street feeling light as a feather, convinced that nothing could bring him down from where his head was surely stuck in the clouds.

~~~

Ghost was just pulling the hoodie back over his head when Johnny came in again at the end of the day. He’d taken it off to ensure that he wouldn’t spill any ink on it, but now that he was in the last stages of cleaning up he felt more secure in pulling it back on. It was absolutely drenched in the alpha’s scent, once again tempting him to burrow into it and drown in that scent.

The urge was only kept at bay by Johnny’s arrival, so he instead shook out his hair and glanced over at the alpha – finding him already staring, seemingly awestruck and blushing red. It pulled a flush to his own cheeks, until he forced his gaze away again.

“Ready to go? I’m done cleaning up here,” Ghost said, gathering up his bag.

“That was quick, you’re usually insistent that you have to double-check everything before we go,” Johnny teased lightly, offering Ghost a smile.

Ghost just bumped his shoulder against Johnny’s, a yawn forcing his jaws wide. “Hush. I’m tired, I don’t have the patience to double check.

Johnny chuckled, pressing into the contact before Ghost could pull away, before following him to the door. “Suppose I can’t complain about getting home a bit earlier. I was going to chop some of my heartleaf – do you think you’d want some? I have some that’s ready to pot already, if you do.”

Ghost hummed as he locked the door of the parlor. The waiting room had slowly been collecting plants from Johnny, but there was already a hook that he could hang a planter from… “I wouldn’t mind that.” The vines had a sweet look to them, their heart-shaped leaves that they were so aptly named for turning towards the light…

Johnny grinned at his acceptance, nodding happily as they walked down the street on their way home, shoulders brushing in the gathering dark. The alpha continued to chatter away, carrying the conversation as Ghost hummed in acknowledgement when needed. He only stopped when they reached Ghost’s door, letting the omega unlock it in peace before speaking again.

“Get some rest, Simon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ghost nodded, a yawn being pulled from him as he waved his goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Johnny.”

The alpha chuckled and stepped away, allowing Ghost to shut the door. Then Ghost wandered towards his bedroom, stripping as he went, initially intending to find some pajamas to change into. But the moment he caught sight of his nest, it was like his body was magnetized – sinking into the layered, woven mess of bedding with a content sigh.

There, he finally allowed himself to bury his face into his new hoodie and smother himself with Johnny’s scent.

Again he was met with that almost cider-ish, spiced scent, something perfect and comfortable. He sank further into his nest, tucking his nose into the crease of his elbow and breathing in deep and calm.

…. he didn’t even know what time it was when he was quite rudely roused, the knock at the front door making his head jerk upwards from where it had laid.

Another quick knock had him crawling out of his nest with a grumble, stumbling to the door. He barely remembered to even peek out of the peephole, but once he did he was opening the door, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes from his impromptu nap.

“Johnny…?” His voice was barely more than a mumble, almost petulant after being awoken – focusing after a moment without answer, just to see the alpha’s face turning red. In his hands he held a plate that smelled delicious, still warm enough that Ghost could see it steaming.

“I- I didn’t hear you cooking, figured that I’d offer some of my leftovers…?”

It’s a hilariously weak excuse, to call them leftovers when they’re barely cooled like this. It’s obvious that, just like Johnny’s supposedly ‘accidentally’ oversized lunches, the food was most definitely made for Ghost in mind.

But, for some reason or another, instead of the general gratitude or amusement that he’d felt with those realizations before, this one came with a wave of something… more. Something like pride, or joy – something that made him feel wildly giddy at the thought, outright preening over the fact that Johnny decided to – and had been deciding to – go out of his way to take care of him. The fact that he’d been so insistent all this time, coming to the shop to feed Ghost. He’d been making them meals to share so often that he’s hardly had to cook for himself, when Johnny had been finding every excuse in the book to do it for him.

So instead of responding in any verbal way at first, he feels a purr rumble to life in his chest as he reaches out – one hand taking the plate, the other dragging his wrist over Johnny’s arm, an instinctive but woefully unpracticed attempt to scent the alpha in thanks.

It wouldn’t work, unfortunately. Not in any way that would actually leave his scent behind, when he had been taking scent blockers for so long. But for the moment, the movement is enough, the intent behind it all Ghost needed to see the way that Johnny’s pupils blew wide, nearly eclipsing the alpha’s irises.

“Thank you, Johnny,” he finally managed, voice rough and rumbling with his purr – happy and content, standing in his doorway with almost nothing but the hoodie that the alpha gifted him… which was probably why Johnny was so red.

Ghost squashed his own blush down as well as he could – he wasn’t going to bother with shame, not when he was just showing how obviously he appreciated the gift.

“Of course… I- I’ll leave you to it, then,” Johnny said, dazed as he smiled at Ghost, hesitating for just a moment before he stepped back. “Sleep well, Si.”

“G’night, Johnny,” Ghost murmured, waiting until Johnny actually stepped back towards his own door to shut his own.

Dinner, as it always did when it came from Johnny, tasted delicious.

~~~

Stepping back into his own flat, Soap ignored his plate of food for a moment, instead dropping onto his couch.

Almost immediately, he raised his arm to his nose, dragging in deep lungful of air in the blind hope that he’d be albe to pick up even just a hint of Simon’s scent on his own clothes. And, maybe it was just the nearly delusional need of an alpha off his fucking rocker in love with an omega, but he could swear that he could smell just the faintest hint of Simon on him.

But, in all reality, it was nearly impossible that it was true. Simon was religious with his scent blockers, the only reason Soap knew his scent at all was because of that flash heat all those months ago and the short foray into the omega’s flat because of it, what felt like an age ago now.

Still, he was happy to delude himself into believing that he could carry Simon’s scent on himself – that he could be just as claimed as Simon was when the omega was wearing that fucking hoodie…

Fuck, Soap had been right about how good Simon looked in the hoodie. His face still felt warm after being gifted with the delightful vision of Simon like that. The hoodie was big even for the omega, and he’d been all warm and sleep-mussed, flushed from his nap. And his legs, christ, he’d tried not to stare at them, all bare and pale, obviously thick with muscle but softened by a healthy layer of fat. The perfect place for Soap to rest his head, or to set his teeth and bite, the perfect place to suffocate if Simon was so inclined-

The thought pulled a quiet groan from Soap before he could hope to muffle it, and he pressed the heel of his hand to the tent attempting to form in his pants, biting his tongue to control himself. He had no shame when it came to getting off on the thought of Simon, but- food first, at least, while it was still warm.

And, of course, he wouldn’t be getting off in the sitting room where him and Simon shared a wall, where Simon could potentially hear him – no matter how tempting the idea might seem in the moment.

~~~

It took almost a full week after receiving Johnny’s gift before Ghost actually found the guts to reciprocate properly. Or, at least, reciprocate in the way that he felt capable of.

Ghost’s father had left him with more than physical scars, unfortunately. He’d been a cruel man in many ways – and he’d always hated, more than anything else that Ghost had seen, the fact that his eldest son had been born an omega. The moment that he had presented and his scent turned sweeter, his father had been shoving scent blockers down his throat. Anything to keep the fact that Simon was an omega hidden from the world.

The man had shamed him for everything that came naturally to him, shaping Ghost until he had almost acted more like an alpha or a beta. And, after a couple of uncomfortable encounters with alphas when he did dare to go without blockers, Ghost had kept up that particular habit.

But despite that… Ghost wasn’t ashamed of being an omega. Not really. He had come to accept that part of him, the way that he and many other omegas differed from the stereotypical figure that was associated with most omegas. He wasn’t small, he wasn’t soft.

And with Johnny officially dipping into clear-cut courting… he wanted to show the man that he was actually interested. The alpha’s interest wasn’t one-sided. He wanted to give Johnny similar gifts of clothes soaked in his scent, he wanted to actually scent the man and have it mean something.

So, for the first time in years, Simon consciously set his bottle of scent blockers aside before he stepped out the door.

Johnny had to gone meet some customers at the shop early in the morning, something about negotiating prices, so Ghost had some time to himself to think. At the very least, he had some time to try not to spiral over the fact that he could actually smell himself outside of heat for the first time in years.

It almost made him feel like he was going into heat, honestly. But no – there’s no cramping, no unbearable heat, no dizziness or territorial instinct holding him by the throat. There’s only the faint threads of star anise and cedar and sweet petrichor of his scent, so he forced himself to settle and focus on purely on his work.

Thankfully, the parlor was empty by the time that Johnny arrived with their lunch, tossing him a greeting and moving straight for the microwave to heat their food, starting it – and then pausing with a confused look as he inevitably caught Simon’s scent as well.

“Si…?”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, playing dumb – still nervous about having taken this step. “Hm?”

“I- I don’t want to intrude, but… are… you’re not going into heat, are you?”

Ghost saw the pinch of concern on the alpha’s face, the vague uncertainty, and simply gave a quiet huff of a laugh. He tried to make things a little clearer for the alpha, stepping closer to Soap so the man could get a better indication that it was in fact his scent, raising a hand and repeating that clunky, unpracticed motion, dragging his wrist from the point of Soap’s shoulder and down to his elbow.

“No, I’m not. Shouldn’t be for another month or so.”

“Ah…” Soap’s gaze skipped from Ghost’s hand to the omega’s eyes, before he seemed to melt into the touch. He swayed into Ghost’s space, taking a deep breath. “Alright… good, yeah. Wouldn’t want you riding out another in here.”

Ghost laughed, nodding as he bumped his shoulder against Soap’s before the alpha could actually tilt enough to fall over. “Seconded, I swear my hip was bruised from laying on the concrete before you found me.”

Johnny gave a wounded little sound in response, and Ghost just patted his cheek with an amused smile.

“You weren’t even the one that had to deal with it, Johnny, don’t start whining on my behalf.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean that you should’ve had to deal with being all bruised and achy in the first place,” Johnny grumbled as Ghost stepped past him to grab their food. He swore that the alpha also muttered something about there being better reasons for bruises, but he made the executive decision to ignore that bit for now.

Instead, he produced some utensils for them to eat with and waved Johnny into one of the seats next to his own.

“Whatever you say, Johnny. Now, what were those clients of yours meeting so early in the morning for?”

Johnny groaned, but threw himself into the seat, taking his food from Ghost’s hand, already complaining about traveling clients.

~~~

Johnny had been quick to develop a new habit of leaning in as close as possible, obviously basking in the new emergence of Ghost’s scent. It made him feel good, making it that much easier for him to continue to go without his scent blockers, the scent then becoming gradually stronger as the medication filtered out of his system. It was actually quite endearing, the way that Johnny so clearly wanted to drag himself closer, bury himself against Ghost, despite the way he just as clearly continued to hold himself back from doing so.

He was letting Ghost determine the pace of the relationship, which was… good, in some ways. It was good, really. But it was also infuriating.

Ghost knew all too well that his own hesitation wasn’t just a hill to get over – it was a damn mountain to climb, complete with peaks and valleys and unsteady snow and avalanches to send him back to ground zero.

Ghost didn’t even have the luxury of knowing the secret to getting over that mountain, even if he wanted to give Johnny the exact cheat codes to his heart. He’d mostly relied on other people’s actions or the odd moment of inspiration that managed to spur him on.

It’s exactly the reason why him and John hadn’t even had a proper conversation about the fact that they were courting. Their relationship had hardly shifted from what it was before Johnny’s scent-gift, outside of the obvious frequency that they were sharing their scents.

But… well, while it didn’t help him on his issue of general hesitation, Ghost found that his discontinued use of scent blockers did act as a perfect catalyst for some inspiration to get him over his next hurtle.

It came in the form of one of his own clients – an alpha that was coming in for a large piece, something that was pushing the limits of Ghost’s skill. The alpha had come in a few times already for consultations and to give his opinions on the design that Ghost had made for him, and he hadn’t really shown much reaction to him, friendly and excited to get another piece of art added to his skin.

The only problem was that this particular client had happened to be scheduled outside of any time that Johnny had ever been in the shop – and apparently decided to make his interest in his tattoo artist known only when the parlor was empty.

So, on a Saturday morning, Ghost was surprised when he caught the way that his client started flirting with him. And- it wasn’t terrible, unfortunately. Ghost didn’t think that the alpha was trying to be a creep. He didn’t have those kinds of vibes, and Ghost had learned to trust his internal judgment of people at a young age. The alpha wasn’t being crass or rude about his advances, he wasn’t outright untoward. It was mostly just… pointed compliments that were given with a bit too much weight, really. Easy enough to brush off, but slowly making his hackles raise the longer that he went on without having a response to give.

He’d never known how to flirt, really. He knew how to respond to someone being obvious about the fact that they wanted to fuck, but this? As nice as it was, he didn’t know how to respond, much less let the alpha down lightly. So he just stayed silent, hoping that at some point the alpha would clue into the fact that his silence wasn’t just him focusing on his work.

But the man continued, commenting on Ghost’s pressure control, his art, even the decoration and organization of his shop – until, finally, Johnny came to act as his savior.

Ghost heard the door of the shop open a handful of seconds before Johnny came into the work room, giving a quiet tap of warning before he stepped in with a bag of food in hand. He hovered behind Ghost to study the work he was doing on the man’s back and gave a low, appreciative whistle.

“Damn, look at that… fuckin’ gorgeous, Si.”

Ghost smiled, feeling that spark of inspiration come to life in his chest. A chance to perhaps kill two birds with one stone. So, he carefully finished his line before leaning back as he shut off his tattoo gun, tugging his mask out of the way and tilting his face up to Johnny.

“Give us a kiss, won’t you, love?”

Johnny obviously bluescreened for a moment, freezing in place, startled and caught off guard. But he was an adorably eager and obedient sort, and in the next moment he was leaning down to kiss Ghost’s cheek.

Ghost, in turn, shifted to properly catch Johnny’s lips.

The kiss lasted only a fraction of a second, just a quick, stolen peck – but it left Johnny short-cuircuting yet again as Ghost gave a blind pat to his client’s as-of-yet untouched skin and started to put his tools away for his lunch hour with his boyfriend.

“We’re gonna take a break, I need some calories before my hands start shaking,” he said, rolling his chair away from his client and turning his attention to the bag in Johnny’s hand as he peeled off his gloves. “What’d you make for lunch?”

“Ah, it’s-” Johnny took a long moment, but eventually refocused and shook off his shock. “It’s a new recipe, some honey garlic chicken? It was supposed to be paired with broccoli, but I made some green beans as well if you’d prefer…”

Ghost gave a pleased rumble, standing to take the bag from the alpha. He loved getting to taste Johnny’s newest recipes, the man was brilliant in the kitchen. “You’re a saint, have I told you that before?”

A laugh was pulled from Johnny, who followed him out to the waiting room to use the trusty microwave. “Only once or twice, but I swear I’m not that good.”

“Bullshit,” Ghost countered, with a light flick between the alpha’s eyes for good measure, which got a noise of offense from Johnny. “You’re amazing.”

Johnny laughed again, but leaned against the counter to stare at Ghost, face again going pink at the praise. “Whatever you say, Si.”

~~~

Johnny left after lunch with a kiss pressed to Ghost’s forehead, the omega settling back into his seat with his client ready to start up again.

Thankfully, this time the flirting had ceased and he could work in peace – but still, even with his day ending earlier than usual, he felt tired and sore after so long of being hunched over and focused on such small details. That client would be back again soon to continue it too, but for now he seemed more than happy with the progress so far, the first couple layers of skeletons climbing over each other done. The stack would continue, over and over, all the way until the skeletons reached the top knob of his spine – the crazy bastard.

It’s an incredibly intricate piece, and one that Ghost will be proud of once he’s done, but for now he’s more interested in ducking over to Johnny’s to relax for a bit – let his eyes rest after hours of strain. Maybe he’d help Johnny out with anything he needed, before they finally got to go home for the day.

Stepping into the flower shop, the scent of earth and greenery greeted him first. The warmth and humidity of the shop had become a comfort to him by now, something he quite enjoyed, especially when Johnny’s own scent had become an integral part of the shop as well.

He found Johnny at the counter, standing beside the till, faintly humming and eyes unfocused.

Ghost took the opportunity to close the distance between them, another line that he hadn't been crossed quite yet. He stepped close just to nudge his chin against Johnny’s head, just an inch away from being plastered to the alpha’s side.

It earned him a slight jump, but then Johnny was leaning into the touch with eyes that once more went wide and awestruck, as if he couldn’t believe that Ghost was willingly getting so close.

“You almost done here?”

Uh, yeah, I…” Johnny trailed off after just a second, before tilting his head to bump against Ghost’s in return. “Yeah… I just got a couple more things to take care of.”

Ghost hummed, shifting to lean down and press his forehead to the top of Johnny’s shoulder – both to hide from the world and to take in the alpha’s scent as close to the source as he felt brave enough to get. It earned him a soft chuff in return, Johnny’s chest shaking with the sound. It made something in him feel like it was glowing, hearing such an alpha sound of happiness from Johnny – the warmth of it spreading through him until a purr rumbled to life in his own chest as they stood there. Ghost leaned more of his weight onto Johnny, until the alpha shifted to face him properly, a shy kiss pressed to Ghost’s hairline.

“Long day?”

“Mhm… ‘m tired.”

“I can imagine, you were working on that guy for almost seven hours straight.”

“Fuuuck, really? I didn’t realize…”

“Outside of lunch, yeah. Get some good work done, though?”

“Mhm… it’ll look good once I’m done, if the crazy fuck can handle the work along his ribs.”

“If he wants his money’s worth, he will. I’m sure it’ll look great.” Another kiss pressed to his hair, lingering for a long moment this time. “You ready to head home?”

“Once you are.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Johnny murmured, his voice soft. “You can sit in the back if you’d like – I’ve got a bit more to finish up back there, I just gotta check on the monsteras out here.”

Ghost hummed an acknowledgement, but still burrowed deeper against Johnny’s shoulder for a moment as he gathered the will to move away. Thankfully, Johnny didn’t seem to be in any sort of rush to move him along, simply laying a hand on Ghost’s waist as he straightened, stealing one more kiss from the omega’s lips before Ghost gratefully retreated to the back room.

~~~

The monsteras took their fair share of time, but even with that – he wasn’t expecting to find Simon asleep in the back, settled into the extra chair that had eventually migrated in, breathing slowly with his arms crossed, chin to the omega’s chest.

It gave Johnny the rare moment to study Simon without the risk of being caught in the act, to really take in the details that were harder to pick out when the man was awake and in motion.

It made it easier to see and appreciate just how big Simon really was – how much bigger he had gotten in the last handful of months since he had started bringing lunches for the two of them. It was impressive, really – Simon had obviously never been anything less than big, and much of that was muscle. He’d been to the gym with Simon a few times now, knew the omega could lift a mildly terrifying amoung of weight, but… now? He was no less fit than he was previously – but now there was a proper amount of padding covering all that muscle, the perfect amount of softness to him.

It was the kind of thing that made Soap’s instincts almost incandescently happy, prideful – being able to see the effects of the care and dedication that he gave his potential mate.

His mate, the one he had worked so hard to woo and take care of, the mate that would someday, hopefully, allow him to crawl into their shared nest, the mate that might one day carry his children, let Soap take care of him while his belly grew round and-

Too late, he realized that his scent was changing, his own arousal quick to show through as he grumbled and adjusted himself in his pants.

“… really, Johnny?” Simon’s voice reached him and Soap flushed red as he saw the omega’s eyes barely crack open.

He threw his hands up with a groan, dragging them down his face. “Well how else am I supposed to react when I have the most handsome omega I’ve ever seen napping in my back room looking like that?”

Simon went pink at the compliment, something that Soap would never get tired of seeing, but the omega only gave a quiet chuckle before settling further into his seat to sink back into his nap, leaving Soap to finish his tasks around him.

The thought of Simon being his, though… that thought followed him as he worked, haunting his steps even as they walked home together.

~~~

That first kiss seemed to be the thing they needed for the flood gates to open.

Now, every morning and every evening – every time Ghost met Johnny’s eyes, it seemed – he was being greeted with a kiss, the alpha grinning like he still couldn’t believe he was being allowed the liberty to steal such acts of affection.

Ghost loved it. Loved the fact that he suddenly felt like a door had been left ajar, perpetually propped open for him to sneak his bits of affection through anytime he wanted.

It made it much easier, quite suddenly, to invite Johnny into his flat – to invite him in for dinner.

After so long keeping his space so jealously guarded, it felt strange to open the door for the alpha. But to see Johnny making himself comfortable with a beer, fiddling through one of the alpha’s playlists for music… it made Ghost feel warm. Content.

“So, what’s for dinner, hm?” Johnny stepped into the kitchen and gave him that grin, the one that made Ghost want to do nothing but stare.

Ghost was quiet for a moment, watching Johnny’s lips, wondering if answering ‘me’ would be too corny – but he also figured that Johnny would be the type to insist on making sure his omega actually ate before starting anything, especially anything that started so abruptly.

He had to shove down the purr that always threatened to surface when he thought of himself as Johnny’s, shaking himself out of it.

“Ever made fish and chips at home?”

“Not properly, no – you planning on that, then? Sounds great.” Johnny stepped closer, stealing yet another kiss, leaning closer just to scrub his scruff against Ghost’s cheek, scenting him indulgently.

“I make no promises,” Ghost grumbled, pressing his cheek into the treatment, that purr nearly getting stuck in his throat before he cleared his throat as Johnny pulled back. “I’m not much of a cook, really.”

“Aye, I’ve noticed. Don’t worry about that, I’ll help, I promise.”

Ghost smiled at him, appreciative. He did want to prove to Johnny that he could take care of himself, at the very least – prove that the alpha didn’t have to take care of him all the time, that Johnny could rely on him. But the promise of his sub-par cooking skills being bolstered by the alpha did reassure him. “Sounds good to me… less chance of fucking it up that way, right?”

“Aw, Si, you’ll be fine.”

~~~

…. dinner did not come out fine.

It actually came out hilariously bad, to be honest.

Not that Soap was complaining. He honestly wasn’t, as he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the laughter that threatened to burst out of him as he stared at the sticky, blackening, caramel-and-oil scented mess currently floating and bubbling in the pan of hot oil. Ghost was glaring as if he was going to start planning the murder of a kitchen utensil – or perhaps further murder, seeing as the sticky mess was already starting to stick to the edges of the pan.

“Fuck.”

The single word from the omega, in the face of the mess that they had made, threw Soap soundly over the edge. He nearly folded in half as he laughed, wheezing until he choked, clutching his chest as Ghost grumbled but carefully shuffled the pan off of the stove.

“Fuck off,” Ghost muttered, his face pink and obviously embarrassed as Soap clung to the counter to avoid falling over.

Soap tried to pull himself together – he really did, but- “I told you that wasn’t fuckin’ flour,” he wheezed out around his cackling, gasping in a breath as he wiped his eyes and tried to gather himself. But no, he was swept up into another round of giggles, thinking over the hilarity of the situation, Simon’s absolute insistence that the white powder in his cupboards had to be flour, despite the texture. He’d been very convincing, too, so sure of himself that Soap had relented as they battered and dredged the fish in the stuff… only to watch all of their work be undone as the powdered sugar-based batter all but melted away into a messy goop in the cooking oil practically the moment the fish was placed into it.

He was about to apologize for laughing, when he saw Simon slightly smiling, sweet as anything – until his face fell again.

That made Soap feel less bad for laughing, seeing as he wasn’t the only one who found it amusing, but…

He finally collected himself enough that he could step closer without immediately giggling, gently reeling Simon into his arms and rocking them back and forth.

“Aw, it’s alright, sweetheart. I have some stuff in the fridge, we can whip up something else quick enough, don’t worry.”

It took a second, but Simon simply hummed, rubbing his chin against Johnny’s skull a bit too hard to be comfortable. It didn’t stop him from leaning into it, happy for the attention. “Mm. Fine. What do you have?”

“Got some chicken, could do some sort of pasta, or make it into a stir fry, cook it with some potatoes on the side… any suggestions? Preferences?”

Simon shrugged, leaning down to nuzzle more gently into the soft skin of Soap’s neck, pulling a shiver from him. “I dunno… whatever’s easiest.”

“Alright, sweetheart… you can help with potatoes, how does that sound?” Soap took the chance to press kisses over the omega’s hair, his hands smoothing over Simon’s shoulders and down his arms, an attempt to soothe him.

“Sure you want me to? I already fucked this up pretty spectacularly…”

“Oh, Simon,” Soap cooed, more kisses pressed to Simon’s temple before he pulled the man up with his hands cupping Simon’s cheeks. “It’s alright – it was just a silly mistake. You’ll be laughing about it by tomorrow at the latest, I promise.”

“It was a stupid mistake,” Simon grumbled. “Should’ve just listened to you.”

“Aye, it was, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. Besides, it’s a good excuse for me to cook for you.”

“You already cook for me all the time.”

“Because I like cooking for you. But if you really insist, I’ll teach you how to cook on your own.” Soap smiled, not minding in the least that he had been directly called out on – and admitted to – his big con of cooking an excessive amount of food for the express purpose of giving the ‘extra’ to Simon.

That was just part of his responsibility of being a good alpha, as far as he was concerned.

Simon still frowned, though – pouted, really. Enough that Soap paused, raising an eyebrow in silent question until Simon was quiet for long enough that it forced him to actually ask.

“What’s wrong, love?” He brushed his thumbs over Simon’s cheeks, tracking over the scars with a gentle touch.

Simon went pink at the direct question, his gaze flicking away – opening his mouth without actually saying anything for a moment, until-

“I just… you do so much for me. And I don’t… I don’t know how to repay that.”

Soap blinked, taking a moment to process that, and then a few more to try to understand. “I mean… honestly, you pay me back just by letting me feel useful. I like doing things for you, I like taking care of you.”

“I’ve picked up on that, yeah… I just don’t know what happens if…” Simon swallowed thickly, still not meeting Soap’s eyes, pressing forward to again hide in the crook of the alpha’s neck. Soap let him, ushering Simon closer until they were pressed together as much as they could be. “… what happens if I’m not able to give you what you need?”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Soap squeezed him around the waist, feeling his chest swell. “You give me plenty, I promise?”

“But what is that? What do I actually give you?”

“You engage with my hobbies, for one. No one else has actually shadowed me around just to learn how to take care of my plants and listen to me go off about it all.” Soap kissed Simon’s shoulder, unable to help himself. “You actually just let me talk in general, even if you are busy with other things. And- really, I like taking care of you. It’s… it lets me feel satisfied, y’know?”

Simon gave a noncommital hum. “I suppose… I just feel like I should be doing more.”

“If you want to, I won’t argue against anything you want to do,” Soap said. “But don’t feel like you’ve gotta bend yourself out of shape, either. And I’ll let you know if there’s anything that I feel like I need, okay? You don’t have t’ worry so much, I promise.”

Anoher hum from the omega, and Simon took a deep breath before he nodded.

Soap smiled, leaning into Simon for a moment, giving them both a chance to take that in before finally pulling back. He braced Simon as he followed after him, allowing him a second to straighten on his own – smiling at the omega as his heart gave yet another familiar flutter in his chest.

“Alright – now, let me grab what I need and I’ll be back over in just a minute.”

“We can just go over to yours, you don’t have to-”

“And waste a perfectly good opportunity to explore your flat? Nonsense.”

“I- Johnny, our flats are literally the same-”

“And yet so different! Stay right where you are, I’ll be back in just a minute.” Soap gave him a grin and backed toward the front door, giggling at Simon’s exasperated expression, the omega shaking his head at Soap’s antics.

“Alright, alright. Better be quick, or I’m coming after you.”

Soap gave a laugh at the half-assed threat, but turned to hurry through the door and down the hall.

~~~

Johnny was a godsend. Ghost didn’t know how he had somehow come to deserve an alpha like him, doting on an omega like himself.

He’d been back in Ghost’s flat in record time, hands full of bags with chicken and spices and even a new pan, seeing how Ghost’s was now covered in some strange, blackened, sugary grease that would likely be a bitch and a half to clean, if he didn’t just toss the thing entirely.

But Johnny had in fact put him in charge of the potatoes, which was sufficiently simple for a hilariously inexperienced cook such as himself. Just quartering the small spuds, coating them in olive oil and spices, and laying them over a sheet to toss in the oven. Nothing as fancy as frying fish, and nothing to accidentally mix up.

Johnny was a good teacher. And, yet again, he proved himself to be a good alpha. He turned the disaster of dinner into a fun, sweet night – one where he stole kisses every time they passed each other, with music to keep things from going too quiet as Ghost mulled over his failure of the night.

Still – as much as Ghost could feel the low-grade heat in his gut, the quiet craving for more…

Part of him was still hesitating. He could feel the moment where his own mind betrayed him, his instincts only carrying him so far before his logical mind caught up and held him back.

Ghost had taken a long time to accept himself as an omega, held down by the shame that his father had ingrained in him for the simple fact of being born as the ‘weakest’ sex, as if Ghost had any choice. He didn’t know how to be an omega for Johnny, despite how easy the alpha might make it for Ghost to want that exact thing. He just didn’t know how to act all soft and demure, how to tempt the alpha closer, how to welcome him in without showing all his harder edges.

Ghost’s brand of seduction had just as often been a punch in the mouth as it had been actual flirting. He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t passive, he wasn’t sweet like so many omegas. Ghost had been roughened by his childhood and all the years afterwards, traumatized by the loss of his family at the hands of his own father, hardened by the years he had spent alone afterwards.

Of course, by now, Johnny must’ve known that. Especially after their first meeting, Ghost’s gruffness in the aftermath – surely, despite his casual dismissal of it all, he must have some awareness of it.

But that didn’t seem to stop the alpha from kissing him all soft and sweet at the door – different from their previous kisses. This was all slow, drawn out and sweet as molasses. It felt wanting, all of the craving beneath their skin threatening to boil over – until Ghost’s logical mind started to again freeze up-

And, just before Ghost himself could, Johnny pulled back with a slow, syrupy grin, lips shining and kiss-bitten red.

“Thanks for dinner, Si,” the alpha breathed.

Ghost had to take a moment to come back to himself, his face caught in Johnny’s hands, staring at the alpha’s lips for a long moment before he blinked. “Didn’t even make you dinner, you’re still the one that fed us.”

“Thanks for hosting, then, is that better?”

It pulled a quick laugh out of Ghost, at least, as he pressed into Johnny’s palms with a quiet purr. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Good enough, I guess, with my shitty couch and all.”

Johnny huffed, but just leaned forward to kiss him once more. “I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

“Mhm. Of course, Johnny.”

With that, the alpha slowly dropped his hands away from Ghost. He stared for a long moment, and Ghost could ractically taste the hesitation pouring off of both of them, unwilling to let a good night come to an end. But Soap finally leaned down to pick up his bag of spices and stepped out of the door – leaving Ghost standing there, wishing that he was just a little less of a coward so that he could call the alpha back.

~~~

Soap needed to tell him.

He really need to tell Simon.

He really, really needed to tell him.

But things were so soft – so easy and sweet and good right now, it was hard to find the will to potentially interrupt that.

It was easy to continue dancing the same elegant dance that they had fallen into months ago, but-

It wasn’t so easy to ignore what was coming, the date that was circled in Soap’s calendar. The prickle under his skin, the ache in his teeth, the urge to glue his eyes to Simon until he was sure the omega had eaten everything that Soap had offered. The itch to bury his nose against Simon’s neck and sleep there, tucked in against the scent of pine and sweet leaf litter, a burrow all his own among the trees.

Rut had always made him… intense. At least, that’s what he had been told by the people that he’d previously ridden ruts out with. Apparently it wasn’t normal to want to keep his partner bundled in the nest for the entire duration of it, huffing and growling like some sort of bloody caveman. Perhaps other people didn’t have such a change in personality during their cycle, but… well, it had always been like that for Soap. He couldn’t imagine any other way to be during his rut.

That being said… he didn’t want to scare Simon off. He’d already seen a glimpse of what the omega’s heats were like, heard his muffled whines through the walls of the tattoo parlor, been hit with the sweetness of his scent when it was over-ripe and heady with heat…

But even with that, even if it was just a flash-heat, Simon had seemed so controlled. He’d been aware and steady as he explained his situation, clear as he had explained to Soap what he needed. He was nothing like the wholly instinctive creature Soap became, feral and inconsolable if his partner wasn’t comfortable and taken care of, well-fucked and sated.

And- they’d been taking this slow. Soap knew that Simon had some issues with handling people and likely relationships, so he had silently decided to let the omega set the pace – he wouldn’t be forcing Simon into anything more than what he felt ready for. Simon was worth the wait, any way that Soap looked at it. He had nothing to gain by getting too bold, and everything to lose.

The only problem now was the fact that he wasn’t sure how to go about handling his rut on his own – or how to bring it up.

Until, finally, he found himself blurting out the words on a random Thursday evening as they cleaned up the parlor together, the placement of Simon’s things second nature by now.

“Ah, hey Simon?”

He got a curious hum in response. Simon had been flipping through his sketchbook ever since Soap had insisted that he sit and relax while the alpha straightened up. But after a moment without response, Simon clued into the quiet and glanced up with sharp, almost concerned eyes.

“Johnny?”

“I- sorry. Just. Well, I just wanted you to know, um… my rut is gonna be next week, probably around Monday or Tuesday?”

He watched as Simon blinked, brows pulling together, his gaze raking over Soap with more intent focus now as he shut his sketchbook – but before he could open his mouth, Soap couldn’t help the way his nerves bubbled over and his own mouth started running away with him.

“I- I’m not gonna ask you to come with me, not this time. Maybe- I mean, maybe later, or if you decide you really do want to come with me? But-” God, his fangs hurt just thinking about it, making him stop and chew on his lip for a moment to try and ease the ache of it. “I just- fuck. It might be too much, maybe it’s stupid, but I’ve just- I’ve kinda gotten the feel that you might have some… issues? Around these things, cycles and instincts and all that-” the strangeness of Simon being scentless for months, for example- “But I just want to say that it’s fine if you do, it’s just… I don’t want to rush this. I wanna take my time with you, Si. I wanna be good for you.”

This time a little more shock passed over Simon’s face, confused and perhaps a little disgruntled, and Soap couldn’t help but lean closer to the man, dragging the bridge of his nose along Simon’s jaw, down to press his cheek to the omega’s shoulder, scenting him yet again until Simon seemed to melt against him.

“I… yeah. Yeah, alright Johnny. That sounds good. Do you want anything of mine while you’re gone?”

“Yes, please,” Soap rushed out, leaning further into Simon’s bulk, a rough chuff rattling out of him when he felt Simon’s arms around him. “I’ll make sure to clean it after, too, it’s no problem-”

“Don’t bother,” Simon rumbled, lips brushing over Soap’s hair. “My heat is coming up just after your rut, so… tit for tat, I suppose.”

Soap groaned at the thought, mashing his face into the omega’s shoulder, tempted but resisting the urge to turn his face and press into the soft of Simon’s neck. The mental image of the omega curling into already defiled sheets, the twice-used bedding that Soap will have already soaked in his own scent, his own sweat and cum…

“Bloody fuckin’ christ,” he said, arms tightening around Simon. “Y’ can’t just say shite like that, sweetheart.”

Simon just chuckled, hand coming up to rest over Soap’s neck, the warmth of his palm covering his mating gland. It already had Soap relaxing into the touch, but the way that Simon squeezed made his legs nearly turn to jelly – and yet Simon held him up easily, pulling another happy chuff from Soap’s chest as he gave a dopey grin.

“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I, doll? Now c’mon – let’s head home, hm?”

Soap gave another chuff and nodded, nestling into Simon’s shoulder again, daring to breathe in his scent from scant millimeters away from the omega’s neck – only moving when Simon gave him a little shove. It pulled a quiet growl from him, but Simon just bared his teeth in return, laughing as he directed Soap out the door.

~~~

Prepping for his rut was… miserable.

Great, but miserable. Over the four days leading up to it, Soap was sure that he was insufferable, always pestering Simon about taking care of himself and then circling around to make sure that he did. He'd even started double-checking Simon’s tupperware when they had lunch together, making sure the omega had eaten everything that had been offered. Soap had already caught himself midway through asking if Simon wanted his own portion of food far too many times, despite the fact that he knew even Simon wouldn't be able to pack that much down.

He couldn't keep his hands off of him, either. Whether he was draped over Simon's shoulders or sitting behind the omega, pressing his thumbs into the base of his spine or working out the tight bunching of muscles in Simon's neck. If he had the choice he'd be pressed into Simon's side every moment of the day. It got to the point that even when he wasn't dreaming of pupping the man, he found himself literally drooling over the omega’s scent. He nearly lost his mind entirely when he realized that it was starting to turn sweeter, just barely, with the encroaching of Simon's heat.

If he hadn’t already promised Simon that he wanted to take things slow, to go at Simon's pace, he probably would've humped the man's leg just to get his instincts to ease the fuck up. Maybe, if Simon had let him, he would've fucked the omega’s thighs. Shoved his knot between strong thighs and painted his skin with his cum, maybe Simon would have let Soap grind his knot up against his cunt, just to give Simon a taste of what he would be missing out on during his rut.

Soap had to bite his fist to refocus on the fucking road, his other hand white-knuckling the steering wheel as his cock gave a slow throb. Fuck, maybe he should've left for the rut facility a day early, because now his instincts were wailing about how he was leaving his omega behind him, tempting him to turn around and return to Simon. He should be making sure that the man is taken care of, not driving his way to a place where he'll be locked away for an entire week.

He was leaving his mate to an entire week of Simon having to take care of himself, instead of Soap doting on him. Soap's nostrils flared with a visceral, feral anger that had nowhere to go when he thought about how, just a week or two ago he'd been staring at the evidence of how well he cared for Simon. How, if he wasn't there, all that extra padding, the extra fat and mass that Simon had added could just disappear.

Just the thought of it had that feral little creature in his chest howling like a banshee, clawing at the cage of his ribs and begging him to turn around, to go back to their omega. Everything in him screamed for Soap to go hide Simon away in his nest, keep him stuck on his knot, make sure that he was safe and taken care of.

Fucking hell.

He stepped on the gas a little harder, turning up his music to try and drown out those thoughts, to little success. By the time that he pulled into the rut facility's parking lot there were red indentations in the shape of his teeth around his knuckles from where he'd been flexing his jaw to keep himself focused. The only thing that kept him moving now, shuffling out of the car and to the boot to grab his bags, was the promise of being able to bed down and weave together a nest with the things that Simon had given him earlier.

Stepping inside, the beta at the front counter took one look at him and ducked her head, scrolling rapidly through whatever program she had up on the computer, eventually lifting her gaze again as he reached the counter.

“Mr. MacTavish?”

He grunted, shifting the bag on his shoulder. “That’s me.”

“And you’re unmated, correct?”

“Right.”

“Okay then. Your room has already been prepared, you’re supplied with four blankets and three pillows during your stay to nest with, along with a standard stroker and lube should you want it. There are cups and a faucet for water for you inside, and we’ll deliver three meals a day, unless you want to pay to have an extra meal be supplied? You can also pay for extra nesting material-”

“I know, and no, I don’t need the extra shite,” he snapped. The place was setting him off, making him feel strange and off. He’d only spent a couple of ruts in facilities like this, when he was younger and more uncertain. They weren’t bad, really, the staff members were generally nice and understanding from what he remembered. A week ago, he would’ve said that he had actually enjoyed his stay in the facilities, outside of the fact that he had to be alone for his rut. The loneliness was the worst part, especially when he had that lingering urge to press skin to skin.

But now… now he felt like he was going to lodge his teeth into someone if he didn’t get to be alone in the next few minutes. It was getting to the point where the lights were too bright, the sound of the receptionist’s voice was too much, and the scent of other alphas was driving him up the wall.

Maybe it was just the scents of other alphas, actually, now that he thought of it. He felt something nervous and unfamiliar turn circles in his gut, like some neurotic animal. He took his room key and started marching down the hallway that he was directed towards, trying not to breathe too deeply as he tried to parse through why his rut felt so different like this.

He wasn’t sure what the hell was wrong with him.

Getting to his assigned room was a relief though. It was a bare little thing, more or less the size of a hotel room with a tiled half-wall to separate the bathroom area from the rest of it. There were waterproof sheets on the mattress, a stack of the promised bedding on top of it, colored a light neutral grey. It was all a bit… depressing, honestly, the more he stared.

Fuck. That was just the rut talking, having to be separated from Simon getting him all sad and mushy.

He tossed his bags down and started pulling out the blankets that he’d brought from home. His favorite heavy duvet, something that his grandmother had sewn for him out of old jeans and scrap fabric years ago, the fleece blanket that he and Simon had shared on the couch a couple days ago while watching movies together. He used the provided blankets and pillows as well, padding it out into something acceptable enough, before he took a deep breath and his self control finally broke as he nearly dove for the backpack that Simon had given him before he had left.

The omega had made him promise that he wouldn’t open it before he’d gotten settled in, and just that had Soap damnably curious. But now, unzipping the bag and nearly tearing open the scent-sealing bag that was inside of it, he had to admit that it was worth the wait.

He nearly shoved his face into the bag, breathing deep to coat his lungs with the scent of Simon. And not just Simon’s normal scent, either – he could nearly taste the way the sweet, earthy scent turned heavy and dark with arousal, the salt and bitter of cum.

It had him growling, upending the bag to dump out the contents into the nest, the sound growing in his chest until he was nearly choking on it. There was the hoodie that he’d bought for the omega, now mostly soaked in Simon’s scent, with the faintest hint of his own blending with it. There was another blanket, smaller, but soft and almost surely from Simon’s own nest. But then there were a few smaller bundles that made something feral and hot roar to life in his gut as he snatched them up and pressed them to his nose. They were fucking panties, all lace and silk, doused in that perfect fucking scent.

He fumbled with his belt and zipper, unwilling to pull the scent away from his nose – until he finally decided to just tuck one of the panties into his mouth instead, groaning at the taste of Simon’s slick soaked into the threads. Like that he nearly tore the seams of his shirt getting it off over his head, kicking off his pants.

Then he was fisting his cock, moaning shamelessly around the fabric still held between his fangs. The thought of Simon wearing panties, getting off in them, soaking them just for him was going to send Soap into the stratosphere. Just the mental image of Simon wearing something so lacy and delicate made him feel insane, fangs aching until he was groaning almost more in pain. He clenched his jaw, not giving any mind to the way they tore through the fabric he was surely putting holes in. He’d be doing worse if the panties were still on Simon.

He felt absolutely mad with it, the roughness of dry skin against his cock too much, not enough to ease the way even as his precum started to drip and slick against his palm. Soap needed more, a proper warm, wet cunt to fuck into, but he knew the toy that the facility provided would only be worse – only reminding him that he didn't have his mate near enough to touch.

He came just a few minutes later, shaking as he squeezed his knot, fangs shredding the first of the three pairs of panties that Simon had given him.

Still, like that he only got a few minutes of peace, just to feel a growl rumbled out of him as he realized that he could smell other alphas, mixing with the scent of Simon all around him. It had Soap baring his fangs at nothing as he ground his hips into the nest that he'd made around him. The threat of other alphas being around his mate was unacceptable, prickling along his spine until he was forced up to his feet, instincts driving him to drag a cum-covered hand along the doorframe, the faux-leather seat in the corner, the half-wall leading to the shower, until it all smelled of him. Even then, it didn't feel like enough, but it was better than nothing… for now.

At least for now, he could settle into his nest and curl around the hoodie that smelled so deeply of his omega, until his rut would inevitably kick in again.

~~~

… if Johnny's rut was rough going into it, the alpha looked like hell coming out of it.

Ghost answered his door feeling jumpy and waspish. He was close to his heat now, sorting through the last of the supplies that he'd be bringing with him. Normally he wouldn't have bothered answering his door this close to his heat, but he was expecting Johnny to come by at some point before he left.

And, when he opened the door, he wasn't disappointed. Johnny leaned against the edge of the small alcove that led to Ghost's door, his bags in hand, looking utterly exhausted. The scent coming off of him was still rough in a way, the spiced-cider turned sharp and heavy with his rut.

“Johnny,” he barely breathed the man's name, before the alpha half-stumbled forward, shoulder sliding along the wall until he was able to plant his face against Ghost's shoulder with a grumble.

One after the other, Johnny dropped his bags on either side of Ghost, before his arms came up to wrap around the omega, tugging him closer to rub his scruffy jaw against Ghost’s, damn near leaving him with beard-burn. It was only then that Johnny apparently found the will to speak up again, taking in a deep breath.

“Christ, am I glad to be back, thought I was gonna go insane…”

“Yeah?” Ghost cradled the back of Johnny's head with one hand, scratching through the short-buzzed hair there as he peppered kisses over the alpha's face. “Missed me, then?”

“Missed you so much, Si…” Johnny tilted his face up, pouting with half-shut eyes as he lazily chased after Ghost's lips with his own. “Goddamn cunts stripped me of my money too, wasn't enough that I felt like I was off my fuckin' rocker for a week, they gotta take advantage of my wallet too…”

“Oh? And what'd they do that for, hm?” Ghost indulged him with a single kiss, and smiled when Johnny gave a quiet little huff of annoyance when he didn't continue.

“Apparently I trashed their room… fuckers wouldn't even let me try to explain, they said I had turned it into a fuckin' biohazard,” Johnny growled, grinding his skull a bit harder into Ghost's shoulder, though his growl tapered into a pouty little grumble. “It wasn't like I was tryin’ to, I just… never felt like that around other alphas.”

Ghost chuckled at the mental image that the alpha gave with that explanation, before he nudged Johnny’s bags behind him and carefully dragged him inside. “Of course you’d be a feral little shit during your rut, huh? Such a troublemaker.”

He felt Johnny grin against his shoulder, obviously able to hear the affection in his voice. Then the alpha’s hands came to rest on his hips, as he breathed deep against Ghost’s neck, lips playing all soft and teasing along his skin. “Not usually a troublemaker, y’know… it’s just with you.”

“Yeah?” Ghost fought to keep his voice from going all breathy, forcing himself to not shiver too much. “Makes you sound like you’re pulling pigtails for attention.”

“Mmm, more like getting in fights so that you’ll kiss it better.”

“Haven’t even seen you get in a fight, love.”

“Hm, cause other alphas know better than to try to get too close, if they have half a sense of smell.” Johnny placed a gentle kiss against his neck that nearly pulled that shiver out of Ghost. “Mm- charging me a fuckin’ mated fee just cause… haven’t even bitten you yet.”

“‘Yet’? You seem pretty damn sure about that,” Ghost said with a quiet chuckle. Fuck, with how close he was getting to his heat, he was far too tempted to just say fuck it and drag Johnny back to his bedroom for the week that it would take.

But no – the alpha already looked exhausted, he wouldn’t be keeping up with Ghost for the week. It would be better to ride it out on his own this time, and if everything went well, they could always wait and ride out their next cycle together.

So, as Johnny hummed and mouthed over his skin, slowly slumping further into Ghost’s arms, he slowly pulled them into the living room area. He couldn’t realistically have Johnny come with him for his heat this time, and honestly he should be leaving for the heat facility soon, but for at least a couple hours, he could indulge the alpha.

So he sank into the couch with Johnny laid over him, humming contentedly when the alpha squirmed to crush Ghost into the couch as much as his weight could. What would perhaps suffocate a smaller omega was nothing but a comfort for Ghost, happy to accept the weight and tighten his arms around Johnny.

~~~

Simon left him with a quick kiss, taking the same bag of clothes and blankets that Soap had been given for his rut from the alpha’s hand before he climbed into his own car and driving off.

Immediately, it hit Soap a bit harder than he thought it would, his instincts making him want to whine and cry after the omega’s vehicle, even knowing how little it would do to bring him back. He’d already suffered through a week without Simon – he could handle one more.

Though, when he finally got back to his own flat and was greeted by the scent of freshly-watered plants, he swore that he could cry as he checked through all the individual pots with their sticker calendars marked off, all dutifully watered on time. There were some other maintenance that he’d have to do for his plants that Simon obviously hadn’t trusted himself to do, but there wasn’t anything that was terribly important. It still left his heart crawling up his throat, grabbing up the one extra blanket that Simon had swapped him for – something for Soap to cling to while his omega was gone.

He had to get back to work with his shop as well – check what kind of inquires might’ve come in while he was gone, spend a while building up his usual stock of bouquets, do a thorough overview of the plants at the shop…

Not that any of that sounded any sort of compelling. For the moment, he was more interested in sinking into his couch and sulking, feeling the tightness in his throat. He wouldn’t cry over the fact that Simon was gone in the aftermath of his rut, not when he knew why he was gone, but it didn’t hurt to sniffle a little and bury his face into Simon’s blanket.

He’d probably been laying like that for something like half an hour before his phone buzzed with a text.

Slowly, he dragged his head up and tilted his phone up to see it.

Unknown Number: Thank you for registering as Simon A. Riley’s care contact! We will let you know if your assisstance is needed for anything regarding the patient.

If this is not John Mactavish or you do not know the name of the patient above, please respond with “STOP”.

Soap felt a little grin spread over his face, butterflies erupting in his belly at the thought that Simon trusted him enough to make him more or less his emergency contact for his heat. Heat drop was pretty damn rare in the modern age, especially with how healthy and filled out Simon was, but it was sweet to know that Simon trusted him in case something went wrong.

It certainly helped him feel a bit better, as he set an alarm on his phone and once again tucked his nose into the blanket around his shoulders, allowing himself to take a nap before he got to work.

~~~

It had been a long time since Ghost had last felt like a ‘proper’ omega. The type that whimpered and leaked slick this profusely, barely able to form words around his needy sounds.

Perhaps this wasn’t the most intense heat he’d ever had, but… shit. He thought that he’d be alright on his own, he thought that it wouldn’t even be this bad – not until he had dug into the backpack that Johnny had brought back to him, filled with the items that Ghost himself had given to the alpha for his rut.

The scent of that overpowering spice-cider sharpness nearly had his knees buckling, even before he’d pulled everything out. He’d woven the stained blankets in with the nest forming on his provided mattress and found himself already leaking slick down his thighs, faster than he had during even his worst heats in the last few years. Ghost felt nearly like he did as a young adult, getting to the heat facility for the first time, being able to get away from his father and the scent blockers he was so fond of, barely able to keep his hands away from his cunt once he settled in.

And when he dug into the bag and found the frankly nasty, cum-covered ruin that those lacy panties had been made into, he couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of him.

After what Johnny been complaining about upon his return, Ghost had to wonder. If the facility employees had been complaining about the alpha making his room into a biohazard… Ghost couldn’t help the grin that he pressed into his nest. Johnny as a messy, rut-brained alpha, hm? It was an amusing thought. How possessive was Johnny, truly? His first thought, when he had first been getting off in those lacy panties, was a softer version of Johnny – wide-eyed and shaky, crawling over Ghost and obediently watching as the omega fucked himself on his fingers, the view barely obscured by the slip of fabric.

But seeing the state that the panties had been left in after the alpha’s rut… he could only imagine the possibilities. The thought had Ghost tucking a pillow between his thighs, groaning as he felt the cover of it brush against his bare cunt. Would Johnny be that patient, that obedient? Was it just the rut running through his system, or would he push and bully his way between Ghost’s thighs? Would he put those ridiculous alpha fangs of his to use, tear the panties off of him directly, just to get his tongue on the omega?

It was a tempting thought, one that had him grinding down against the pillow between his thighs, Johnny's name on his lips as he brought that cum-stained fabric to his mouth, tongue pressing along it to get a proper taste. It had him moaning once more, huffing little whines, just imagining the mess that Johnny would leave him as if he were there with him.

It had his cunt nearly cramping, his lower back going taut and stiff with the urge to have something in him, to be stuck on a knot and fucked over and over again, until the ache lessened and he could do nothing but lay back and enjoy the feeling of being stuffed full.

But it wasn't just the urge to be fucked full that he felt, either -- tasting his whine as it slipped from his throat, shaky and almost outright distressed as a sense of yearning hit him. It was more than just some faceless, inconsequential alpha that he wanted, like so many of his heats before. He'd never gotten the real chance to get all that attached to anybody before Johnny – not in the long term. Before him, it had all been quickly passing faces that would help him through a heat just so that he wouldn’t have to go alone to a heat facility and have to deal with the extra few days of ‘comedown’ that were mandated for omegas – an outdated but still normalized part of societies thought that omegas were too weak to handle themselves.

He wanted to have that alpha be Johnny, no one else. The urge to have his alpha by his side was almost painfully sharp, his chest thrumming with the need. He wanted to be Johnny’s, he wanted to be a good omega for him, he wanted the alpha to be there, knotting him, curling up against his back with a happy rumble, feeding him little bites of whatever food he had prepared for the both of them. He wanted that care so badly that it burned, making him whimper as he tried to stuff his fingers into his cunt to forget about that ache.

It would be useless, he was almost sure, but it would at least hopefully make it all that much easier to know what to do once he got out of the facility.

~~~

Soap only made it about halfway through the week before he had Gaz on his couch, wondering about the fact that Soap had accidentally sent him the same meme a total of three different times in the same day, with the sort of lonely fugue state he’d found himself in.

The other alpha had been good company, pulling him out of his post-rut pouting, laughing at Soap when he had started whining a bit too much about how much he was missing Simon. Soap had shamelessly beaten him with one of his most overstuffed throw pillows until Gaz had cried for mercy, and the two of them had stayed inside for a while longer before going on a run to help clear Soap’s head a bit further.

It had definitely helped, even if Gaz couldn’t quite replace the presence that Soap had gotten used to. Every day, the lack of Simon next door, the lack of the omega coming into his shop in the morning, the lack of him working away in his parlor when Soap was done cleaning up all left him missing the constant companionship that Simon had been giving him for the last several months. He almost hadn’t realized just how used to it all he had become until now, when Simon wasn’t there to fill those quiet moments with his dry humor, his quiet hums and acknowledgements. Even if Simon didn’t talk anywhere near as much as Soap did, he had become a constant comfort.

So, when Sunday finally rolled around, Soap was nearly vibrating as he waited to hear from Simon – nearly jumping out of his seat on his couch when his phone started vibrating with a call from his omega.

“Hello?” He answered almost breathlessly, sounding by all accounts as if he had sprinted to his phone. “Simon?”

“Hey, Johnny,” the other man murmured. He sounded just as tired as Soap had felt coming out of his rut, making him melt – that urge to take care of him crawling up Soap’s throat once more. “Think you can come pick me up? Would get home myself, but… well, y’know. Not really allowed.”

“Hm?” Soap was already shuffling around, grabbing his car keys – before he paused, remembering that Simon had driven himself to the facility already. “Not allowed to- what, go home?”

Simon snorted quietly. “Yeah, Johnny. Can’t get discharged until I have someone to sign me out, unless you’d rather wait for Wednesday?”

“I- no, absolutely not. I just- did something happen? Are you alright?”

“… yes? I’m fine, Johnny. Just a bit tired.”

“Then why won’t they discharge you?” He felt a little niggle worry nip at his spine, hand tightening around his keys. “If you’re fine-”

Simon gave a quiet laugh, sweet but making it obvious that Soap was missing something. “I’m fine, Johnny. That’s just the usual practice, call it societal oppression.”

For a moment Soap could only open and close his mouth, gaping like a fish in confusion – until he finally recentered himself and shook his head. “I- alright, then? What are you planning on doing with your car?”

“We can leave it for now, I’ll pick it up tomorrow or something.” Simon yawned quietly, obviously unconcerned.

But Soap didn’t want to make Simon have to worry about leaving his car there, or having to retrieve it later – so he put the call on speaker phone, and started looking through rideshare apps. “I can get a ride there instead, drive your car back?”

“If you want to, that works too.” Simon hummed, quiet. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine, just missing you,” Soap said, feeling his heart melt. “And you? Hopefully your heat wasn’t too bad.”

Simon gave a vague hum, and with that sound Soap was almost sure that it had been just as rough as his rut. It made him give a tight frown as he found himself an Uber that would get him to Simon in about fifteen minutes, traffic be willing.

“I’ll be there soon, Si. You wanna stay on the phone?”

“Mm. Think I’m gonna close my eyes for a minute, just call me again when you get here?”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Soap agreed without hesitation. “I can do that. I’ll be about fifteen minutes, hopefully.”

“Thank you, Johnny.”

“Of course, always.”

~~~

Picking Simon up from the heat facility almost felt surreal. The omega was standing there, mask in place and obviously tired as his eyes threatened to close. He smelled amazing in the aftermath of his heat, just like he had before he'd left - and now he was wrapped up in a blanket that barely fit around his shoulders, looking far too cute for Soap's heart to handle.

Especially when Soap reached him, and Simon started purring, startlingly loud and full-throated, leaning into the alpha’s space with perhaps less hesitation than Soap had ever seen from him. He’d been expecting Simon’s heat to knock down some of his usual self-conscious uncertainty, but this was more than what he had ever thought to hope for.

Simon’s face pressed into the crook of his neck, purring loud enough that Soap could feel the vibration of it in his chest and throat. Like this, it sounded like the rumbling of a big diesel engine, loud and continuous – more than the softer, more shy whisper that it had been before, in the rare moments that Simon had seemed to forget himself. Before this, Simon had always seemingly avoided purring at all.

God, Soap’s heart was going to give out before they ever got home.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing Simon’s cheek. “Y’ seem tired.”

“Mm.” It was a short little hum, but Simon nodded, showing that he was at least somewhat listening.

“Let’s get you home, hm? That way you can actually curl up in your nest and get some proper sleep.”

At that, Soap was nearly pushed over as Simon put more of his weight on him, heavy as his muscles went lax. The omega definitely seemed to approve though, as his purring got somehow louder. Soap just chuffed and ran a hand through Simon’s hair, smiling to himself until the omega finally picked himself up enough to actually allow the two of them to shuffle back through the doors and out to the parking lot.

Once there though, Soap found himself once against accosted, this time shoved up against the car itself. If Simon hadn’t been coming off of his heat, he’d almost be concerned about the omega getting a bit too worked up with how he seemed to be intent on melding the two of them together.

“Si- hey, sweetheart, c’mon-”

“Back seat,” Simon mumbled against Soap’s jaw, slowly mouthing kisses over his scruff. “Just for a minute?”

“Don’t wanna get home first? We don’t have to worry about getting up again like that, lovely.”

“Just need a minute.”

“Just a minute?”

“Mhm.” Simon nodded, and Soap carefully nudged him back enough that he could get the back door of the car open.

Then he was being practically shoved down and into the back seat, the omega crawling in after him, making Soap nearly squeak with the unexpected motion – but then Simon settled over him, head pressed into Soap’s shoulder as he laid down. Both of their legs were still hanging out the door, and Soap could only imagine how ridiculous they looked like that, but… for Simon’s sake, at least, he contented himself with just playing with Simon’s hair for the moment.

Admittedly, it was nice to know that he wasn’t the only clingy one after a cycle spent away from who would hopefully be his future mate. After the week apart, it was soothing to have Simon so close, acting so sweet for him. Especially in the inside of the car, where Simon’s scent had been given the time to sink into the fabric of the seats, where his post-heat scent was allowed to gather and settle around them, it was a delight to have his omega’s weight crushing him.

Simon relaxed like that for a few minutes – at least ten, truthfully. But eventually, Soap had to break the moment, once his back decided that he couldn’t in fact ignore the way that he had a seat belt buckle digging into his shoulderblade.

“'C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get back home. I wanna get you back to your nest before you actually fall asleep.”

In response, Simon gave an almost impressively huffy sigh, crawling up from Soap at long last. It definitely helped with relieving the pain in his back, though he still heaved a long groan as he pulled himself back upright. Then he stood, just to open the passenger door for Simon to nearly fall into, the omega clearly exhausted.

At least the drive back home was short, enough that Simon didn’t actually fall asleep on the way there – if Soap had to wake him up just to get him up to his flat, he might’ve lost the heart for it. As it was, he barely parked the car before Simon was pulling himself up and out of the door, nabbing his bags on the way out and leading the way into the building and up the stairs to get to their flats.

Simon then opened his own front door and nearly threw his bags down again, stopping suddenly enough that Soap bumped into his back – at least until the omega turned and grabbed him, dragging him further into the flat, down the short hall. There, Soap was bullied up against the wall before he could even catch his breath, Simon kissing him hard, just once, before pulling back.

“Get your clothes off,” Simon breathed, stepping back to apparently start doing the same thing.

It left Soap blinking in shock, having to take a few moments to catch up with what was happening. But fuck, if Simon was inviting him into his nest, he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to refuse. It was everything that he had been wanting for months now.

So, he rushed to follow Simon’s example, stripping off his pants and then his shirt, hesitating at his underwear until he watched the omega remove his own. But then Simon was fixing him with an intense look, stepping closer – and once more grabbing Soap just to bully him into the nest.

It was softer than it looked, somehow, making him sink into the plush pillows and blankets, nearly smothering him even before Simon joined him, laying on top of the alpha, barely propping himself up enough to hold Soap’s face between his hands.

“I want you there for the next one- my next heat. I wanna ride my heat out with you, Johnny, please. I don’t think I can handle another one alone like that-”

It had Soap holding onto Simon just as tightly, gripping around one of Simon’s wrists, the other squeezing at the omega’s hip. “Yeah- yeah, love, I’ll be there, I promise, whatever you want-”

He was cut off as Simon kissed him hard, licking into his mouth for just a moment before pulling back with a whine that legitimately took Soap’s breath away, the omega suddenly babbling with a need that Soap hadn’t truly seen from him until now.

“Thought I was gonna die, felt so empty, fuck Johnny- I didn’t wanna be alone, wanted you there, I couldn’t- nothing was enough,” Simon nearly whimpered. “Don’t know what the fuck you did to me, shit-”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Soap hummed, chuffing quietly at him. “I’ll be there next time, I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

“You better,” Simon huffed, shaky, pressing closer until he was nearly mouthing over Soap’s mouth, not quite kissing him – almost more licking over his lips as he continued mumbling into the space between them, his hips grinding forward in a short motion, finding Soap hard between them, because of course he was hard with the omega of his dream crushing him into his nest. “Fuck, Johnny, it’s- I need-”

“Let me make it up to you, please? Fuck, Si, c’mon- I’ll show you how good I can be, please, I wanna be good for you,” Soap breathed, eyes wide as he held Simon close.

Simon groaned, forehead falling against Soap’s. “Johnny…”

“Yeah? C’mon, love, let me take care of you.” Slowly, Soap settled his hands onto Simon’s hips, leading him into another grind, treating himself to the first proper hint of dampness as his thigh pressed up to make contact with the omega’s cunt.

It had Simon shuddering hard, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth bit down on his lip to muffle the whine that slipped through his teeth. “I- shit, I dunno if I can-”

“No?”

“I’m still-” Simon once again ground his hips down, and Soap watched as his face seemed to go slack before twisting in some sort of discomfort. “S-still sore, I can’t-”

“Oh, lovely,” Soap murmured, breathless, resisting the urge to curl his fingers into Simon’s hips and bully his legs apart. It wasn’t a cruel urge, he didn’t think, but the mental snapshot of Simon’s face twisting in some overwhelmed pleasure-pain was far too tempting. Instead, he gentled his grip entirely and pet his hands down the omega’s sides. “D’ya still want to get off?”

There was a moment of hesitation, but then Simon nodded with a shaky exhale. “Fuck- yeah, I just-”

“Let me take care of you, then? You don’t gotta do anything, sweetheart, just let me up?”

Simon whined, but with one more gentle pat of encouragement to his hip, he finally shifted enough to let Soap out from under his bulk.

Soap then flipped Simon onto his back, letting him settle into a comfortable position – taking the opportunity to fully process the situation, appreciate the vast expanse of skin that was suddenly exposed to his gaze, the warm press of Simon’s legs on either side him. He already knew that Simon was a big lad, he’d been enamoured with that fact for months, but somehow Simon managed to seem even bigger when he had nothing at all covering that bulk. His thighs were thick and strong, covered in the perfect amount of plush fat that made Soap nearly drool as he reached out to finally palm over them like he’d been wanting to for so long.

“Shit, you’re beautiful, Si,” he rumbled, chuffing as he ran his hands up to the omega’s hips, his waist, leaning up to palm at Simon’s pecs as well. “Christ, been wanting to see you like this for… “ He breathed a shaky sigh of relief, his cock throbbing, twitching hard as Simon pressed up into his hands as his thumbs rolled over his nipples. “Fuck, so long.”

“Johnny… c’mon,” Simon breathed, lips twisting into something that Soap would’ve loved to call a pout, if he wasn’t sure that Simon would kick him for it.

Instead, Soap just chuckled and leaned closer to kiss him, allowing himself a couple moments to press his cock into the softest parts of Simon’s belly, breathing a moan into the omega’s mouth before he pulled away again and shuffled downwards. He gave a slow brush of his fingers over the omega’s clit, just to see it give a faint twitch as Simon nearly hissed, but then he was shuffling his way lower, pulling Simon’s thigh over his shoulder until he was face-to-face with the omega’s cunt.

He used his thumbs to part the lips of his cunt, seeing how red and sore it looked – overworked and sensitive, just from the constant, pulsing need to get off, Soap supposed. “Christ, you look delicious,” he mumbled, eyes flickering up to Simon as the omega stared down at him with an expectant, needy look in his eyes.

Then Soap leaned closer, kissing the wet core of him – reveling in the way that Simon shuddered again, a groan punched out of the omega’s big barrel chest at the barest of contact. It got louder as Soap moved his lips, turning into a choked sound when his tongue slipped through, licking into him. Soap kept his movements slow and steady, not quite working up to anything spectacular yet – enamoured by the way that Simon was reacting already.

So he took his time, breathing slow and steady, taking in the scent of that pine and sweet petrichor, the thick tang of arousal that made his mouth water, only adding to the mess that was quickly starting to gather and drip down his chin.

Then he flicked his tongue upwards, against Simon’s clit, and got a whine in return as the man finally grabbed a handful of Soap’s hair. He didn’t bother trying to guide his head though, simply holding on as Soap continued on, lips and tongue working to pull an orgasm out of the omega. The look of pleasure twisting Simon’s face was almost enough on its own to make him feel drunk, floating with the knowledge that he was making his omega feel good, finally able to provide this last thing to Simon.

It pulled another rough chuff out of him, low and half muffled against Simon’s cunt, making the omega gasp and squirm. The movement only had Soap wrapping his arms under and around Simon’s thighs, locking him into place so he could press deeper, his tongue working harder – lapping over Simon’s clit before sucking, which had Simon’s thighs trying to close around his head as the omega gasped. It only had Soap chuffing again, eyes once again fixing themselves onto Simon’s expression as it twisted with something desperate.

Yet another chuff, and Soap pressed his face into Simon’s cunt with fervor, wanting to see more, to taste more. He was truly cunt-drunk, more intent on licking as deep as his tongue could reach than breathing, as his nose mashed up against Simon’s clit, the thighs around his head muffling the world around him, half replacing the sound of Simon’s whines and moans with the sound of blood rushing through the powerful muscle pressed over his ears.

He didn’t even realize that he’d been mindlessly grinding his cock into the nest until he heard Simon’s sharp keen, a new gush of slick from the omega’s cunt finding his tongue, soaking his face – the taste of it making him moan as he went all lightheaded, eyes threatening to flutter shut as he felt his knot expand a couple moments before he was spilling against the sheets.

It had him growling, hips working to fuck against the bedding beneath them a bit harder, until Simon tugged at his hair and managed to dislodge the alpha from his cunt. Soap gasped at the feeling, vision swimming for a moment – he honestly wasn’t sure if it was from lack of oxygen, or purely because of his orgasm as it rocked through him.

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” Simon murmured, barely more than a breathy gasp. “Like a dog with a bone.”

“Have been called a golden retriever before,” Soap slurred, letting Simon hold the weight of his head for a few long moments. He’d be more than happy to continue, or to at least nestle back into the firm clench of Simon’s thighs on either side of him.

But Simon just laughed, tugging him upwards again. “Christ. Get up here, pup.”

Soap grinned at that, squirming upwards again, gasping when Simon got a hand around his knot, giving it a light squeeze that had his cock drooling another lazy line of cum.

“I would offer to give you a hand, but it looks like you took care of that well enough already,” Simon huffed, eyes trailing from Soap’s cock and up to meet his eyes again, something wry and teasing in his gaze.

It only made Soap give a soft giggle, leaning closer to kiss Simon again. “Could keep your hand there ‘til it goes down. Feels nice.”

“Hm, suppose I could.” Simon gave another firm squeeze, returning the kiss and dipping down a bit to lick up the mess of slick and spit from Soap’s chin, before his grip settled with a constant pressure around his knot.

Still, now that Soap had worked out the last of the omega’s tension, Simon only lasted a few minutes before he was blinking tiredly, body fighting to go lax. Soap watched, feeling that terribly fond emotion gathering in chest, until it boiled over and he gently led the omega’s hand away from his knot.

The movement had Simon giving a soft grumble, but Soap simply hushed him and pressed a kiss to the omega’s lips. Simon returned it lazily, clearly half asleep, pulling a soft chuff from Soap’s chest as the omega began to purr.

“I love you,” Soap whispered – an overdue confession, perhaps, with how long he’d been holding onto the feeling.

Simon’s eyes just fluttered open for a few moments more before purring a bit louder, more than pleased still. “Love you too,” he mumbled back, lips slack and uncoordinated as sleep continued to pull at him.

Soap just grinned, pulling Simon a bit closer to him, allowing the omega to shove his face against his neck and go slack once more. “Go on, get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be here.”