Chapter Text
Cloud Strife knows better than to let on that he’s an omega in heat. In Nibelheim it was bad to be weak, and what was weaker than an omega? Cloud knew the answer to this one: a male omega! Small stature, irregular heats, inadequate chest: too feminine to be a good, strong man, too masculine to be a good, strong mother. Or so he’d been told by adults and peers alike.
It hadn’t helped that his heats had started so early, at least two years before anyone else in his age group. His mother, bless her beta heart, was entirely surprised, and the ancient family medicine book she made him read hadn’t helped. It had told him to “prepare food in advance, so your Husband and children may not be bothered during your Shame” and that “blood-letting from the ankle is no longer standard practice”. No shit.
So when he starts getting overheated, itchy, and woozy on patrol, he slaps on fresh scent patches and powers through as long as he can. Then he goes to his bunk, grabs one (1) shirt from his Ma and his pajamas, then heads to the infirmary for isolation, texting his boyfriends that he's going to be unavailable for a week.
Cloud: going to infirmary. Am fine. Gone for week. Don't worry.
Zack, who had been setting the table at Angeal’s apartment for dinner, immediately drops the stack of plates on the counter and sprints out the door upon hearing Genesis read the text.
Angeal: Baby, what do you mean?! Did something happen? Are you sick?! Zack's coming, honey bear.
Genesis: My love, you hate the infirmary! What is going on? Please let us help you.
Sephiroth: Is this about your cycle? I could smell it on you. You should be with us, I don't understand.
Cloud: don't bother. Am fine. Will get reports done.
Angeal: Muffin, we don't care about the reports, we care about YOU. *IS* this about your cycle? It's not a bother at all!
Genesis: Mi vida, you're not fine if you're in the infirmary, please tell us what's going on!
Sephiroth: If you are uncomfortable with us, I suppose I understand.
Sephiroth is full of lies, he does not understand. He thinks Cloud doesn’t trust them or want to be with them, which makes no sense. They’re in a relationship after all, and isn’t it far more comfortable to spend this time with his pack? Not that they’re formally bonded, but still, all current scientific literature and his own experience implies that spending a heat with a pack, even if it is as friends, is far superior to spending it alone. He frowns and picks up the plates Zack abandoned.
Cloud, wobbling up to reception, thinks he would be too much trouble. He’s handled this stuff on his own or with just his mom for years, and doesn’t want to subject his bunkmates to his heat-addled self, much less his extremely hot SOLDIER boyfriends. It’s a gross and vulnerable time filled with fevers and fluids and feelings he’d rather not think about himself, let alone let anyone see. He, a lowly third class, is already miles behind them and doesn’t need to show them another failure.
Angeal can hardly focus, even with Genesis’ help, on cooking the meal. He and Genesis both wish they were downstairs collecting their chocobo, but they know Cloud would feel crowded at best. The urge to care for their pack member is strong, even without his scent close by; heats are special times for the whole pack, designed as a time of rest for the omega while a pregnancy catches or the uterine lining sheds, and an opportunity for the pack to satisfy their instincts to protect, care for, and bond with each other.
Zack catches up as Cloud’s working on medical leave paperwork in the waiting room. It takes a lot of reassurance and a little guilt tripping to convince Cloud to “at least try”.
“Come on Spike, do you really want hospital food when you could have Angeal’s dinners?” Zack wheedles, still smelling of said dinners as he scoots closer.
Cloud is weak. He’s weak to Zack, weak for being an omega, weak for having heats, weak to Angeal’s dinners, weak to that warm arm around his shoulders…
“I- I guess I can just camp out. But not if I’m going to be in the way,” says Cloud, scribbling in his ID number for the 5th time. Why they can’t just look at the first page is beyond him.
“Not at all, man,” says Zack. “If you want us to leave you alone, we can totes do that. Being home just smells nicer and has better food, even if you decide to go full hermit. You know mama bear Angeal, he’ll feel better if he knows you’re not eating sludge! Not to mention Protective-roth. Imagine him coming down here every day, prowling around, ‘not bothering’ the staff.”
The mental image turns the corner of Cloud’s mouth up. For all Sephiroth’s innocent intentions, he does have a tendency to loom.
By the time the nurse comes back with confirmation that he’s approved for medical leave, Cloud’s melting into Zack’s side and fully worn down. He checks the box to say he’s spending his heat outside of the infirmary and absolves them of all responsibility, yadda yadda, and Zack signs up as his primary contact.
As they stand up to go home, Cloud almost faints into Zack's arms. He starts crying silently, already ashamed, while Zack coos and gathers him up in a toddler carry.
“Oh sunshine, baby, I've got you, can I carry you?” Zack asks, not really expecting an answer.
“*hic* m'sorry, ‘m a burden! *hic*” Cloud hiccups into Zack’s shoulder, hands clenched in his boyfriend’s shirt. He hates this. The emotions just…spill out, so easily. And he’s tired and his head is stuffy and he’s hot and cold at the same time and Zack feels so warm .
“For a big tough SOLDIER like me? Not at all! You're made of pure muscle, but I can carry you just fine, sunshine! Hey, that rhymed!” Zack cheers, adjusting his hold and picking up Cloud’s suspiciously light duffle bag. “Aw, don't cry little sun,” he says, and kisses Cloud’s spiky head gently. “Honestly, you're doing me and the guys a favor. We love taking care of you, and between you and me? We'd all be worried sick over you stuck alone in the infirmary! I mean, just imagine how much Angeal would stress-bake! There'd be enough cookies to build a new Tower!”
Zack nuzzles Cloud and earns a weak chuckle. He grins into the spikes and takes off down a quiet hallway, determined to minimize Cloud’s embarrassment at being carried.
“That is, if Gen doesn’t stress-eat them,” says Zack, filling the air with his cheerful chatter. “He’d say he’s fine, but ‘accidentally’ start firaga’ing recruits. Y’know, more than normal…”
Cloud, woozy with all the movement and heat sickness, buries his nose in Zack’s neck to catch his scent and tries to smile.
Finally, they get home, to Angeal's apartment, and everyone's there. They pass Cloud around and welcome him, giving out chaste kisses and soft pets while his eyes drip like a faucet. He hates this. He loves this. He needs this.
Angeal gets his boots, scent patches, and stiff uniform pieces off, then rummages through the duffle he brought to find his comfort items, only to see a single woman's blouse and a standard-issue set of scratchy pajamas and an army blanket. Not even any comfort foods or soft items or ANYTHING.
Not even any clothing from them.
Genesis notices Angeal's tension, and hands Cloud off to Sephiroth. Zack joins the duffle huddle.
“Angeal, what's wrong?” Genesis asks quietly. Angeal hands him the bag, worrying his bottom lip.
“Puppy, was this all he had? Are you sure there weren't any other bags with him? Or blankets?” Angeal asks.
“No, I checked and I asked him and the nurses. This is it. I was afraid it felt a little light, what's...oh, Spike…” Zack’s voice trembles as he sees how little Genesis is holding up.
“This is not right,” says Genesis. “*sniff* I'm going to fix it.” He wipes his eyes hastily and walks over to where Cloud is clinging to Sephiroth. “Darling Cloud, we're going to set up your nest here, unless you'd prefer another apartment. Do you want it in the big bed or the spare room?”
Cloud shakes his head, ready to refuse anything but a cot in the spare room.
“Ah-ah, no arguments! I always have my nest in the spare room because it has a nice corner, but the bed does smell very good. I'm also bringing you pajamas and Zack's going to gather clothes from everyone. Any special requests?” Genesis demands, guessing (correctly) that Cloud had been too shy to ask before.
“Whatever's *hic* easiest,” sniffles Cloud. “I'm sorry.”
“Nope, try again love.” Genesis is not above bullying stubborn omegas.
“Um, s-spare, please.”
“That's good, good boy Cloud,” says Genesis, signing out of Cloud's vision at Sephiroth to join in. Genesis himself needs a lot of praise during his heats, and senses that stoic Cloud is probably the same.
“Oh! Yes, thank you Cloud, you're doing well telling us your preferences, please continue,” Sephiroth says–confused, but supportive; he hadn’t expected Cloud to be this far gone yet. Genesis wipes tears from Cloud's fevered cheeks.
“Yes my heart, it's ok to tell us what you like. Now, what shall Zack look for in the laundry?”
“um, *sniff* Gen *sniff* please....I like everyone's hoodies and *sniff* sleep shorts *sniff* if that's ok? *hic*” Cloud asks hesitantly, his head thick with fog and discomfort.
“That's wonderful, darling boy, you're doing so well, that's exactly perfect,” coos Genesis, kissing Cloud’s cheeks.
“Yes Cloud, and if you think of anything more, we want to hear of it. Good job,” says Sephiroth. Cloud nuzzles into Gen’s hand and kneads Sephiroth’s chest absentmindedly, tears of relief welling up. It tugs at their heart strings as they smell him relaxing; he had been so unsure before.
Genesis soothes him and motions Angeal to take his place, dispatching the puppy to collect clothes from everyone else while rushing to his own place to gather soft pajamas, heating pads, cooling pads, hygiene products, painkillers, and his white noise machine. All his nesting blankets and pillows are already at Angeal's, so he only grabs a few of his silkiest sheets and softest blankets.
Meanwhile, Zack is bouncing around finding Every Single Pair of Shorts and Every Single Hoodie in his and Sephiroth's clean and dirty laundry, and tossing in a few of Cloud's known-favorite articles of clothing or linens. By the time he scours Angeal's apartment too, the pile is enormous.
“Zachariah Markantony Juicyfruit Fair, is that my band shirt you swore you lost?!?!” Genesis demands.
Cloud whines sadly at the tone, a little too out of it to understand the words, but worried about his pack fighting.
“Darling boy, don't worry, it's ok,” Genesis says, massaging Cloud's hand while making death gestures at Zack over Cloud’s head. Zack rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and grins.
While Zack and Genesis are hard at work, Angeal is too. He coos and coaxes Cloud into telling him what he usually eats (hospital muck), then into what his mom feeds him and what he likes (Nibel stew, noodles, fruit when they can afford it or it is in season, special gingersnaps, carbonated juices when they can afford it to help with cramps, crackers, light sandwiches). Angeal’s heart aches with empathy for Cloud’s frugal upbringing; he knows intimately the pinch of want and the balm of simple pleasures like fresh fruit.
“Sugarplum, I’ll get you all the fruit and soda you want,” Angeal purrs, resting a warm hand on Cloud’s stomach, just like Gen likes.
“Don’ wanna be bother,” says Cloud, both hopeful and chagrined. His body aches for sweet treats at times like these, and he knows better than to ask his Ma (she has enough on her plate), so he feels bad asking Angeal.
“You’re never a bother, sweet pea,” says Angeal. “And we can absolutely afford it, no arguments! It’s good for your health.”
“Sorry. Can pay you back,” says Cloud, squirming to get to his thin wallet. “And pick it up m’self.”
“Why would an omega ever have to do that?” asks Sephiroth, genuinely confused. “Cloud, we will handle it, please rest.”
“Sorry, don’ don’ wanna be a bother. ‘S what th’book says. Home Healthe Almanace, 3rd edit’n. Don’ be a bother. Sorry.”
“Honey, I came from Banora, and even we have the 10th edition of that monstrosity. Whatever it says is probably wrong about healthcare, and definitely wrong about heats. Our edition told Genesis to ‘drink black tea to maintain wakefulness during heat’ before he threw it out the window.”
“Help stay awake?” Cloud asked, entirely too hopefully.
“Cloud! No!” exclaimed Angeal. “It makes cramping worse!”
Cloud pouted.
“Jelly bean, trust me, it’s not worth it. You can ask Gen,” says Angeal, rubbing Cloud’s belly. He moans happily; Angeal has a magic touch. “Now then, do you like popsicles?”
Sephiroth holds him the whole time in a very tight grip, just how he knows Cloud likes it, and with each whimpered "sorry", he lets go of more of his hurt and resentment over being rejected, until he's practically tearing up along with Cloud.
Angeal gets up to go plan and call Claudia for recipes, leaving the two of them alone.
“Cloud, my Cloud, I'm sorry I didn't understand,” Sephiroth said, voice deep and emotional. “You're not a burden to us at all. I- I should know the impulse to isolate oneself; I've made that choice in the past.”
Cloud whimpers at the thought.
“N-no, Seph, love you! You’re not alone!”
“I know, Cloud, and you should know that we love you just as much. We want you to be near us, just like you want us to be near you. We love caring for you.”
Cloud nods, now sobbing and getting Sephiroth's shirt wet. For once, Sephiroth doesn't mind at all. Ok, maybe he minds a bit, but if it's for Cloud, he will bear it. He squeezes Cloud tight and puts out calming scents.
When all the materials are collected, Genesis sets up the structure of a nest, with a mattress at the bottom and pillows all around, and a base layer of sheets. Given Cloud's current state, he'll be less picky than he would have been had they caught this earlier. Genesis huffs. Another problem for another time; for now, it was time for Cloud to finish construction.
Sephiroth carries Cloud in, and as soon as Cloud sees and smells the nest, he breathes a big sigh and after a second, starts squirming. Sephiroth is a little confused, but with a signal from Genesis, he puts Cloud down. Cloud gets to work, sorting through the offered pile of materials with extremely quiet, but very content and happy chirps. Genesis texts Angeal and Zack to GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW. They come in and all revel in the scene of a happy little omega Cloud in his element. They all have smiles, tears, or both listening to his cheerful purrs and smelling his satisfaction.
Cloud is minimally verbal at this point, but makes sure to thank Genesis for helping construct the base beforehand by scenting him every time he passes the man. He also trills when he finds prized items to tuck away around the nest, filling Zack's chest with pride. Angeal punches Zack in the arm gently and gives him a wink and a quiet "you did good, pup".
Soon, Cloud is found patting the final layer and turns around three times to investigate, nodding once, then very slowly and shyly looking up through his eyelashes at his boys. The room is instantly filled with proud and happy scents and praises.
“Baby bear, this looks amazing! You did such a good job!” exclaims Angeal.
“Hell, er, heck man! That looks SUPER comfy!” chirps Zack.
“My love, you did wonderfully; I particularly love your scent work. You are a total natural at this!” coos Genesis.
“This,” Sephiroth’s breath hitches, “Cloud, this smells like home to me.”
No one is tear-free now, except Cloud, who chirps in delight, then crawls out of the nest and onto Sephiroth's lap to kiss away his tears. He then starts itching and squirming, pawing vaguely at his trooper uniform.
“Dear heart, would you like to get changed?” Genesis asks, catching on instantly. Cloud, relieved, nods and whines. “Of course, precious. Would you like help or for us to leave? Any one or combination of us would be happy to help you.”
Cloud looks around, suddenly very red with embarrassment, then points to Genesis.
“Of course, little bird. Just me?”
Cloud nods shyly, guilt furrowing his eyebrows. Genesis will have none of that.
“Alright, you heard the man! Omegas only! Shoo while we get him dressed!”
Everyone scatters, a little reluctant, but singing Cloud's praises and reassuring him that anything he wants is perfectly alright and they'll be here for him, no matter what.
Genesis helps Cloud into Genesis' silky red heat pajamas and helps him choose from a wide variety of sanitary products, all new. Genesis knows how it can be for young people who grow up in a backwater town, and always keeps a basket fully stocked in both his apartment and his office.
Finally, comfy, protected, surrounded by his family's scents, Cloud crawls into His Nest, a REAL nest, and lets out a loud, welcoming chirp. Angeal, Zack, and Sephiroth nearly fall over themselves hurrying to heed his call.
“Well, Birdy, may we enter?” Genesis asks, smirking softly at the edge of the nest. Cloud huffs and pats the center eagerly until they all flood in, cooing in delight and wonder. Cloud really did do a fantastic job. Everything smells and feels and even looks stunning, especially now that all five of them are represented. Genesis would feel jealous if he wasn't proud of his fellow omega and satiated by the glorious combination of all their scents.
At last, exhausted from his hard work and the turmoil of the day, Cloud falls asleep.
Angeal is disappointed that Cloud passed out so quickly and thoroughly, but the haze of comfort in the room calms him quickly. He had really wanted to feed and hydrate Cloud before things got bad, assuming they did; there was no telling which way it would go since this was his first heat with them. Genesis’ heats got extremely painful, and pain meds can be rough on an empty stomach. Angeal sighs and settles for cracking a cooling pad from Gen's stash and applying it to Cloud's forehead, smoothing back his hair with a kiss.
Calm washes over all of them in waves as they listen to Cloud's little snores, all cuddled up to each other. Zack drops off surprisingly quickly; it's usually hard for him to get to sleep, but Cloud's pumping out therapeutic levels of calming pheromones.
Sephiroth and Genesis follow around the same time, leaving Angeal to sleepily text Lazard to say they'll have to adjust the next week’s schedule to make sure someone's able to stay with Cloud the whole time.
Then he sleeps too.