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Ryo is about to turn eighteen, and the worst thing that could happen to him happens right on his birthday.
He has his first heat.
Which is undoubtedly humiliating.
It's a late heat, very late. Most people have their first heat at sixteen, or earlier, like Riku, who had his heat incredibly early for an omega at only fifteen.
The thing is, the first heat is never that bad. The first year and a half of heat is completely asexual; there's just general discomfort throughout the body and some high fever.
The heat is, fundamentally at first, a preparation for bonding. The scent goes from milky to something with more consistency and flavor, which sometimes adapts to the personality and changes during the first year. The entire body of alphas and omegas alike prepares itself for the future possibility of bonding, generating, perfecting and refining endorphins and hormones for almost two years for future use.
So, in theory, it shouldn't be that bad.
But Ryo isn't fifteen or sixteen, and he's also not seventeen anymore.
Ryo had assumed, at this point in his life, that he'd be a beta. When he passed all of tenth grade without showing any signs of presentation, he just gave up. It was a sad thing since he expected to be an alpha, but being a beta wasn't bad either. Yushi seemed comfortable with the secondary gender so it probably wasn't that bad either.
Sion, Daeyoung, and Sakuya, the alphas of the pack, had all presented at sixteen. Meanwhile, Ryo was only there when Sakuya presented.
Sakuya's presentation, in Ryo's memory, comes a month and a half after his sixteenth birthday. Sakuya woke up feeling very hot, which quickly turned into a fever, and soon after, he began to complain of severe body aches. "It's like an itch," he told Ryo later.
No one thought anything of it at first; they were preparing a comeback at that time. Sometimes you just push your body too hard, and it gets sick in defense. But after a few hours, Sakuya began to complain that his neck was burning, and when Riku, the only omega in the group, leaned over to look, they noticed.
Sakuya's scent gland, which until then had been odorless, was now red with irritation and had a fruity scent, a peculiar aroma for an alpha. But there it was, irritated by friction and sweat, but even more importantly, active on the right side.
It's something they once explained to Ryo in sex education class, but he never paid enough attention to it, but, in short, the puppies would have inactive glands on both sides of their necks, giving off a milky, tasteless scent.
If the right one is activated during the first heat, it's an alpha; if the left one is activated, it's an omega. Once a gland is activated, all functions of the opposite glandular system shut down, so there are no changes in presentation once the first heat begins.
And it is also the only way to know the secondary gender of a person with precision, given that the ruts and the heats are similar at the beginning: without sexual desire, with similar desires to nest (which can still vary depending on several factors such as secondary gender, emotional context, family and even season of the year) and a feeling of generalized illness. There is not much that differentiates alphas and omegas during the first year or so of being presented.
Ryo doesn't think about any of it when he wakes up on his birthday, his body as heavy as lead and wanting to stay in his blankets all day. His body itches and he's sweating, but he's cold.
At first, he thinks he's sick, which is already bad because it's his birthday. So he does everything he can to get out of bed and head to the shower.
The hot bath does little for him; his body burns like it's on fire, and the clean clothes feel uncomfortable against his skin.
He crawls back into bed, accepting that he's sick and that he'll just rest. He can always celebrate his birthday another day; it's not the end of the world. Later, when his members come to see why he still hasn't woken up, Sion sends a message to the manager informing them that Ryo is sick and that he will not be participating in the day's group activities.
The moment he lays his head on the pillow, he collapses.
He wakes up hours later, even more sweaty than before, his hair wet, partly from the shower and partly from his sweat, sticking to his forehead and neck.
He's never been so uncomfortable in his own body before. It's a horrible feeling.
There are murmurs around him, and when he manages to open his eyes, he sees the entire group looking at him from the side of the bed. He sees Daeyoung at the door with Yushi, their heads peeking out like curious cats. Sion is standing next to him, with Sakuya behind him.
Riku is sitting on the bed next to him, looking at Ryo with a similar concern as the rest of the people in the room.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" It's Sion, and he's nervously biting his nails.
"Really bad. I think I'm sick," he replies, curled up in his spot, the sheets burning. He's so hot.
"Ryo, I don't think you're sick," it's Riku, using that sympathetic tone of voice he uses when delivering bad news.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Ryo, you're presenting."
He certainly wasn't expecting that. Not today. Not ever.
Then it dawns on him: the body aches, the tiredness, the irritability of his skin, it all makes sense.
"What am I?" He's somewhat hopeful, he's not going to lie. Although he'd resigned himself to being a beta—which is perfectly fine too, nothing against them—knowing he'd be an alpha is a relief.
"An omega," Riku says with pity in his eyes.
Ryo doesn't remember with clarity anything after that.
He does remember, however, the feeling of his stomach dropping, the feeling of lumps spreading throughout his belly and suddenly his throat becoming very tight and feeling unable to breathe. Ryo remembers trying to breathe deeply but still feeling his lungs shrink.
Ryo vaguely remembers leaning over the side of his bed and vomiting the entire contents of his stomach. He doesn't quite remember if the tears that came out of his eyes were from the information, from the effort of vomiting, or for any other reason, but it hardly matters.
He vomits a lot. He vomits after Riku politely wipes his vomit off the floor without complaining. He vomits after trying to eat something after a while. He also vomits every time he remembers the words "an omega" coming out of Riku's mouth. He vomits until his entire stomach empties and he starts spitting out bile.
His fever rises, and the pain becomes so unbearable that he has to take painkillers and take cold showers several times a day. In fact, when he wakes up, he has the faintest feeling that the conversation was a delirium from the fever.
Ryo's regrettably wrong, though. When he wakes up, his fever slightly lower, he sees in the mirror his irritated, reddish gland, perfectly active on the left side, unequivocally indicating that he's an omega.
He doesn't have time to be unhappy about it; his body is hit with the need for comfort that his sheets can't provide. Inexpertly and almost clumsily, he begins to nest.
He does it diligently; it's instinctive, and if he stops to think about it too much, he ends up feeling dirty and useless.
Jaehee, his designated roommate, is nowhere to be seen. He probably ran away to give Ryo privacy, privacy that Ryo now appreciates as he searches every corner of the room for something to add to the nest.
His nest is actually quite poor. Ryo has some of his own clothes and uses some of Jaehee's because they have a cedar scent and calm him, but it's not enough. He's uncomfortable among the fabrics; everything is irritating and it's like an itch inside him that he doesn't understand the touch of and, consequently, can't reach.
He sends a message to Riku, come here, please.
He quickly realizes he might alert the eldest more than expected and adds, bring clothes.
Everyone's, he finally says, realizing that Riku's scent won't be enough.
(although he is not sure that it is enough either, he does not know well what he wants or what he does not want, and Ryo finds himself in a frantic and unbridled search for something, anything that can bring him some peace, but doesn't know quite what that something is).
Riku takes three minutes to see the message, and then almost another ten minutes to bring piles of used clothes. He also brings him water and salty snacks, Ryo’s favorite.
Ryo is grateful to Riku but quickly kicks him out of the room so he can nest without feeling judged, but it doesn't work because even though he knows Riku won't judge him —he's also an omega at the end of the day, Ryo feels uncomfortable in this new role that he didn't intend to accept.
Once Ryo is alone, he organizes his nest and adds all the scents in what makes him feel most comfortable, although he doesn't really know if he's doing everything right.
He keeps adding scents around the nest with doubt, but makes sure Sakuya's clothes are close to his pillow, where Ryo rests his head and buries his face, seeking to keep that aroma as close to his nose as possible.
Sakuya has a fruity scent, which is unusual for alphas, but even so, Sakuya's personality is unusual for alphas.
Ryo has never really believed there's such a thing as alpha or omega behaviors; society has made quite a bit of progress in that regard. Being tough and protective doesn't make you an alpha (for example, Sakuya, who's far from that), nor does being nice to kids or any of the other crap Ryo has heard his grandparents say make you an omega.
It's an archaic thought. And yet, he's always been surprised by how Sakuya doesn't seem like an alpha in any way.
His scent, for starters, was identical to peaches in Ryo's opinion, and he knew, because he'd been present on those occasions in which Sakuya’s scent had become very similar to rotten fruit when he got angry or sad.
Ryo, unable to detect his own scent, still wonders if it matches any of his members.
All their scents matched, which he secretly finds endearing. They're all scents of nature: Sion smells like damp earth, Jaehee like cedar, Sakuya like peaches, and Riku like flowers, but Ryo can never remember which ones.
Yushi is the only one in the pack without a signature scent, but he says he prefers it because then all the members can smell him simultaneously, creating a unique scent, am amalgamation of all the odors of his pack, just for him.
Ryo finds this somewhat repulsive but doesn't mention it. The less he knows, the better.
Ryo, in particular, has never thought about his own scent. He wonders if it's strong or if he'll be able to hide it easily. All he hopes is that it's discreet. He'd hate a flashy smell.
There are three knocks on the door before Sakuya peeks through. There's some concern on his face that makes him kind of cute.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, leaving a bottle of cold water next to his bed. The first thing Ryo wants to answer is embarrassment.
He's hot, his body itches, it's summer, and he couldn't be more sweaty. He's searching for comfort among his members' used clothes. He feels dirty and tired, and he's already showered twice since the last time, and he can't shake that sticky feeling off his skin. He hates it. He hates everything about it.
"Uncomfortable," he says instead.
"It'll pass," Sakuya says.
Ryo is sure it will. No heat is never ending. It'll only be a couple of days of this misery, and then he'll be free for a month until his next heat.
He doesn't want to think about the next heat. Riku always says that the first year of heat was the worst because it was monthly, until his body stabilized and it started happening every three months, and even then, Ryo feels it's too much. He doesn't want to know anything about it.
Sakuya stands in the middle of the room, not knowing where to lean or what to touch. Which makes sense, because anyone, omega or alpha, is territorial and possessive of everything within reach during heat periods and ruts.
Ryo isn't feeling territorial, but kicking everyone out of the room as soon as they enter isn't helping his cause. Seriously, he's not territorial. But he would say that it is to avoid explaining that although there is nothing to be ashamed of and that everything is natural, he does not want his members to see him in this state. Is that illegal?
“I just wanted to check up on you,” Sakuya says when Ryo doesn’t answer, and heads for the door to leave.
“Wait,” Ryo says, stopping him in his tracks.
Sakuya looks at him, waiting for him to say he needs more water, or that he’s hungry. Under the alpha’s gaze, Ryo realizes he actually has no idea why he stopped him in the first place. Ryo feels something —he’s not sure what— rising inside him, similar to his own conscience but separate from itself. It takes only a few minutes to realize that this is probably his inner omega, begging for a few more minutes with Sakuya by his side.
Stay, he wants to say to him to come into his nest and sleep together, even if it's just for a few minutes, but Ryo can't get the words out. It's as if they're stuck deep inside his chest, straining to stay there.
He feels slightly disgusted by the thought. Is his omega begging for Sakuya, his friend, or Sakuya, the alpha? He feels disappointed in himself when he realizes he doesn't really know.
But even more importantly, how could he ask Sakuya that? His nest, where every piece of fabric that had been there had been piled up with other items of clothing, pillows, and sheets on Ryo's mattress, is part of the elaborate nest. Some stuffed animals have also been added.
It smells so much of everything that Ryo can't seem to find comfort in it, that he has to rearrange the clothes every twenty minutes because they keep falling off the sides, crumbling, creating uncomfortable textures and smells for Ryo's sensitive nose.
He's embarrassed to want his friend's presence, and although Ryo fights against it, it's his embarrassment that wins when he ends up asking Sakuya to bring him something to eat instead of asking him to cuddle with him to sleep.
Ryo ends up sleeping all afternoon and wakes up many hours later with his room in complete darkness and the night spilling through his window. But he also wakes up just as alone as he fell asleep.
There's barely a hint of sugary fruit on his skin. Said skin is soaked with sweat, as it always seems to be since he went into heat.
He's hot, very hot, maybe because of the amount of clothing around him, or maybe because he's having a fever again, or maybe it's because August is starting, or maybe it's all of the above.
The point is that Ryo wants to tear off his skin to cool off.
He thinks about taking a cold shower and going back to sleep, but it seems too late for that. There's no noise outside his room to indicate the rest of the members are awake. His other option is to go to the kitchen for water. It doesn't take long for him to notice that on his nightstand, there are two full, cool bottles of water, and a third already opened.
His heart softens, and he wants to cry. Riku or Sakuya probably left them there, knowing he'd wake up hot and thirsty.
His eyes fill with tears, and his face must be unpleasant to look at. He's crying pathetically because his members are worried about him, crying because he's emotionally sensitive, in pain, exhausted, and ashamed of being sensitive, in pain, and exhausted.
Shame is something Ryo can't tolerate. He never has, but this is even worse than his worst nightmares because there's no escaping being an omega.
Ryo has nothing against omegas! Or at least he never thought so, but now he feels so... hopeless because of it. Maybe it's some kind of omegaphobia he didn't know he had.
He drinks half the bottle in one go and puts it back where it belongs. He curls up in his nest, which should be warm and comforting but leaves him feeling abandoned and cold.
He hates this. Is it wrong to hate it? Is it normal to hate being an omega? He'd thought about a lifetime of being an alpha, or at least a beta, but an omega? It's so out of character for him.
In theory, he knows perfectly well that no physical or mental aptitude guarantees a secondary gender. Yushi, being a beta, is more demanding and authoritarian than Daeyoung, who is an alpha. And Sakuya, being an alpha, is less confrontational and a leader than Riku, who is an omega. Gender stereotypes are secondary, and Ryo knows it.
But still. An omega? At what twisted moment of fate did his genetics believe this was right or natural? He hates it. He hates it so much. There is no way it's normal to hate being an omega this much.
Ryo hates the need for his pack's scents against his skin, and he hates the desire to rearrange his nest that harasses him every fifteen minutes. Above all, he detests the heat that floods his head and the burning sensation of his skin. His body itches all over, like thousands of mosquitoes biting him simultaneously, and it's worse than the new voice in his head demanding things he didn't even know he wanted.
It's as if it were him, but it isn't. It's not his consciousness, nor is it his unconscious, logically. It's an unidentified third thing torturing him with all these things that Ryo now feels as a vital necessity for his existence.
A voice is asking him to rearrange the nest, even though he's done it a thousand times before, and is asking him to find someone, anyone, Riku, or Sakuya, or even Sion, so they can lie down together in his nest and fill the space with their scent.
The voice is growing desperate, and Ryo tries his best to fall asleep, but he can't.
There's an unwanted, greedy anxiety that makes him tremble. Are heats always like this? Is he supposed to feel like he'll die if his pack doesn't walk through the door the next moment and perfume him? Is it always going to be this way?
But Ryo also knows it's just the beginning and things can get worse.
He doesn't even want to think about the next heat, or in a couple of years, when the cycle stabilizes. But it will pass, he knows it will. This same heat is a guarantee that there's no more life for Ryo without being an omega.
He wishes he were calmer, like Riku, who goes through his heat in just a couple of days and then returns fresh as new to work. NCT WISH's activities don't even stop when Riku goes through his heat. Their annual schedule is planned based on everyone's cycles.
And now, based on Ryo's as well.
Oh god, it's going to be disastrous. Ryo can feel himself crying when he thinks about how messed up it's going to be. Without a stable cycle, they only have approximations of when his heats will be, but they could be every three weeks, or less, or more. There's no calculation that tells them when it will happen. They could even be monthly and then suddenly change to every two weeks. He doesn't know.
Ryo thinks about the tour planned for four months from now, all the dates they'll either have to move or, in the worst case, he'll have to miss. He thinks about the recording dates for this comeback, the interviews, the photoshoots, the hours of practice he'll have to miss.
He's trembling in the darkness of his bed while he cries non-stop because he's ruining everything and he doesn't know what he's going to do.
Why did this have to happen? Why now and not before? If he had presented before his debut like most people do, he wouldn't have to deal with this now.
Ryo ends up sleeping on the sheets wet with sweat and tears, the desire for emptiness piercing the back of his neck.
The next day is even worse than the previous one.
Ryo's in a bad mood, his head hurts like it's being drilled into, and it's much hotter than before. To top it all off, he now has a fever that wasn't there before. He's exhausted and can't muster the strength to shower, even once, so Riku helps him into the bathtub, which is even more embarrassing than not being dirty.
No one goes into his room, and Ryo suspects it's because they want to give him privacy, but it only makes him feel lonely and abandoned.
His nest has lost all scent of the pack, and Ryo wants to throw up when he rubs against Riku's clothes in search of his calming aroma of spring, only to find it has almost completely vanished.
He only sees his hyungs when he goes out to eat, just when he runs out of the snacks Daeyoung had brought him earlier (which feels like crawling on the floor for mercy). They eat in total silence, which should be nice for Ryo, since his head is crying out for help, but it only irritates him. It's as if everyone is being careful around him now that he has presented.
Yes, his bad mood is probably due to the anxiety that kept him waking up all night, and it's probably also due to the discomfort he feels in his own nest. It must also be that none of this feels right.
Nothing about his presentation works the way it should for Ryo.
“How are you feeling?” Riku asks from beside him, giving him his full attention, but that irritates him too.
“Fine,” he says, but he’s annoyed, and it’s too noticeable in his voice, full of sarcasm. Riku doesn’t respond, but looks at him thoughtfully, waiting for something. Ryo can’t do anything when he looks away, avoiding Riku’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m just irritated, I guess.”
His body weighs a ton, and even putting food in his mouth tires him out. He barely eats his food and feels sleepy again. He can feel everyone at the table staring at him, analyzing him, sizing him up, like a rabid circus animal.
The urge to cry hits him again, but he holds back his tears.
“It’s okay,” Riku says, accepting his apology, which only makes the guilt in Ryo’s guts worse. His mouth fills with a metallic taste, and he suspects he’s accidentally nicked his inner cheek.
“Why don’t you go to sleep, Ryo? I’ll bring you food later,” Sion says, in all his alpha pack-keeper expression rarely revealed so clearly.
Sion usually seems like a younger brother who ended up being the eldest in a group of friends, but now he seems concerned as he escorts Ryo back to his room, his hand still on his shoulder.
Sion smells like damp earth; he feels like a forest, especially when he spends so much time with Daeyoung, who smells like cedar, as they sniff each other. Ryo remembers that when their ruts coincide, the entire apartment feels like a huge, damp forest.
On the way to his room, Sion tries to rub the gland on his wrist against the recently activated gland in Ryo's neck. He flinches at the mere touch, as his gland is as sensitive as a raw wound.
Ryo jumps in place and lets out a hiss at this, but the burning sensation only lasts a second as his entire body calms in a wave of relaxation and tranquility he hasn't experienced in recent days.
He can feel the muscles in his back, which have been tense for hours, relax at the new sensation that lulls him like a warm hug. Sion's scent becomes penetrating in a matter of seconds, but it works as a calming agent for his body and mind as well.
It's a sensation similar to turning off the kitchen exhaust fan, a mental silence that was more than necessary at this point.
It's just the calming alpha pheromones working on his omega body. It shouldn't be important to him, but Ryo still feels moved by it.
Sion, the alpha of the pack, the leader of the group, looking out for his well-being, seeking his peace. It's emotive to be loved like this by him, too.
"I'm sorry your birthday was ruined. We can only do whatever you want when you feel better," Sion says at the door of his room. Ryo doesn't want him to leave; he's comfortable, wrapped in the alpha's pheromones; he feels at home.
He hadn't even thought about his failed birthday, and he'll surely have many messages to answer later that he's ignoring now in order to fully rest.
"Okay, thanks, hyung," Ryo says. He looks at Sion at his door and then looks back at his nest, cold, odorless, and empty. "Hyung, do I smell like anything?"
The question seems to take Sion by surprise, but he doesn't stop to think about his answer.
"Not anything specific. You smell like fruit, but I don't know what," Sion tells him. "It's like you smell like everything and nothing at once."
Ryo had never thought about his scent, never thought about what he could smell like or what his ideal scent would be. He just wanted something great, those scents that the main characters in anime and series are described as having.
But knowing that he has a fruity scent, typical of omegas, nothing too special or striking, should have depressed him, but on the contrary, he's happy.
He has a scent that matches his pack; it's more than he could wish for.
When Sion leaves and he's left alone in this nest he hates, he thinks of his own scent, fruity but indistinct.
He's glad; at least it's a scent that identifies him as part of the pack, although that's probably because he was already part of the pack to begin with. It loses the mystique if he thinks of it that way, so he doesn't. He chooses to think of this as his scent, indifferent to his pack and simply because of fate.
It makes him feel wanted, loved, desired. Destined to be here.
But if he's destined, why is he alone in his nest?
Ryo sleeps uncomfortably in his bed, but at least he doesn't wake up for several hours.
The next time he wakes up, it's dinner time. Sakuya is the one knocking on his door with a tray of food for both of them.
Ryo's entire back is tense, as if the full effect of Sion's pheromones from hours ago had been absorbed.
"I have ramen," Sakuya announces when he notices Ryo is awake. Sakuya waits for the older man to settle into bed so he can eat comfortably. Ryo leans his back against the wall and accepts the steaming bowl of food. Despite the the fact that ramen is the worst choice of food because of the high August temperatures, Ryo feels happy.
The steam on his face burns and his skin feels sticky, but the smell of the food warms his heart.
He sees Sakuya looking at his nest, examining the patchwork of fabric on his bed, and Ryo can't help but feel criticized for it.
"What's wrong?" Ryo asks somewhat defensively. He feels the need to defend his nest, even though he himself has been badmouthing it for a while now.
"Nothing," Sakuya says too quickly. "Just... isn't it kind of uncomfortable? I mean, there's no scent at all."
Ryo is taken aback by this conclusion. Although Ryo had been mentioning the loneliness his nest brought him for several days, he didn't believe that its scent was directly linked to it (or lack thereof).
Sakuya continues staring at it, still holding the tray and the untouched bowl of ramen. Ryo moves discreetly, making room for the younger boy and nodding, indicating, "Sit here." The younger boy hesitates but obeys nonetheless.
Ryo has to use all his willpower not to scream when Sakuya carefully moves some of his clothes so he can sit properly.
In fact, Ryo can feel the blush creeping from his cheeks to his chest and the back of his neck. He tries to ignore it by keeping his face as close to the plate of food as possible, but he can't avoid the elephant in the room that appears in his mind.
Sakuya is the first alpha—the first person, in fact—to enter their nest.
It makes him feel small in his place, as if he's revealing his deepest emotions, and he probably is, considering how vulnerable and unprotected he feels within the unsatisfying nest he's created.
Ryo's not sure if it's because of some omega possessiveness over his nest, or if it's his non-omega conscience that's ashamed of who he's become. But it still bothers him all over his body, as if a bug had crawled under his skin, walking through his muscles and joints.
Inside the nest, Sakuya's shoulders brush against his, and in the summer heat, the closeness should be uncomfortable, but Ryo doesn't care. Sakuya's scent permeates the room, and he hopes it permeates the fabrics as well.
"I didn't think it was that important. The scent on it, I mean," Ryo finally replies to Sakuya, bringing the first bite of food to his mouth and practically moaning as he feels the pork melt on his tongue.
Ryo's so focused on his food that he doesn't immediately notice the look of disbelief on Sakuya's face, who looks at him as if his answer makes no sense.
"What happened to the scent of all the clothes you have here?" Sakuya asks.
Ryo wants to end this conversation; it feels like talking about sex with his parents —talking about his nest, his first and only nest so far, with Sakuya. It's an uncomfortable and undesirable conversation.
And with Sakuya inside the nest, no less —the only member of the pack who stayed in the room for more than three seconds before abandoning Ryo in a hurry.
“It’s faded, I don’t know, but I can’t feel it.” Ryo keeps chewing, his eyes glued to his plate of food, afraid to meet Sakuya’s gaze and find that he’s actually judging him. Anxiety creeps up his spine as he creates very realistic reactions from the younger boy, all of which are different variations of ‘aren’t you ashamed of being the only omega who doesn’t know how to nest?’ or ‘you can’t even create a proper nest.’
Which isn’t true (or at least he tries to convince himself of that). Plus, Sakuya would never be so cruel and heartless just like that.
“Your scent must have covered it Okiiii up,” Sakuya says, leaving Ryo frozen for a few seconds. He can’t take another bite; in fact, he swallows what’s already in his mouth in one go, almost choking.
Ryo knows he has a scent. I mean, all alphas and omegas have one. Sion had told him not long before that he has a fruity aroma.
But he didn't think it would be perceptible, not without direct contact with his gland, not just from sitting in the center of his nest with only their shoulders touching.
"Do you feel it? Do you smell my scent?" Ryo abandons any attempt to continue eating the food that's cooling on his plate while he waits for Sakuya's response.
Since Ryo can't smell his own scent, he can't tell if he's transmitting his emotions through it. It probably does because Sakuya notices his friend's need for attention and also abandons all attention to his food, now looking directly into Ryo's eyes.
“Yes, it's very strong and fruity, somewhat citrusy, not sweet at all, but that must be because you're not in a good mood or because it's still very new.” He pauses briefly, as if savoring the scent properly. “It smells somewhat desperate, almost sad.”
It shouldn't surprise Ryo as much as it does, but his breath still catches in his chest when he realizes how exposed he is now. He doesn't even have to let on that he's been having a horrible heat for Sakuya to know.
Ryo wonders how much Sakuya can tell from smell alone. Can Sakuya smell that he's been crying? Can he smell his disappointment? Can he tell that he's embarrassed? Can he smell the anxiety growing at the base of his spine?
“Do you think it'll change?”
“How would I know?” And although it's a logical response, Ryo doesn't know how to feel about it.
He's grateful, in a way, that his scent isn't completely defined yet, that it's just a broad and uncertain spectrum.
They eat in silence until Sakuya puts on a video on his phone, a gameplay video by who knows who that makes them laugh and relaxes Ryo.
It's hot to be pressed together like this, with the steam from their plates in the air, a messy nest surrounding them. They're both sweating under their clothes, but it's not uncomfortable.
Even though they're both feeling overheated, the warm between them is nothing like a fever, nor the discomfort that creeps up Ryo's back before he's fully awake.
It's a scorching heat that makes him thirsty, a heat that makes him want to just lie down, enjoying the cool breeze that blows through his window.
Sakuya must be releasing calming pheromones because Ryo finds tranquility in his presence.
Even though they're sharing his nest, it doesn't feel like it. Maybe it's because they continue eating for a long time, laughing and commenting on the video playing on Sakuya's phone.
They watch several videos, one after the other, even after they've finished eating. Ryo has forgotten about his ramshackle nest and doesn't think about it again hours later when Sakuya leaves his place in bed and begins to collect the plates in order to go wash them in the kitchen.
The edge of a familiar anxiety pricks at the back of Ryo's brain like a familiar malaise.
“Stay a little longer… please,” he asks. Ryo feels his inner omega happy with Sakuya’s presence in his room. He wants to prolong that feeling as long as possible.
“In the room?” Sakuya asks, looking around.
Ryo has to restrain himself from the possibility of becoming small right there, ashamed of his own behavior and vulnerability.
"In the nest," Ryo finally tells him.
Sakuya seems to think about it slowly, and Ryo doesn't judge him for it.
But if he feels judged briefly, like when he asked Sakuya to sit there for dinner, is his nest so bad that he should think carefully about whether it's worth staying in it? Even if he was in it a few moments ago?
It's different, though. They're not eating, they're not going to watch videos; it would just be the two of them inside a nest that isn't even comfortable.
"Are you sure...?" Sakuya asks cautiously. Ryo nods before thinking deeply. If he thinks about the implications of an alpha in his nest, he's going to lose his mind.
Sakuya lies down in the center of the nest, careful with the piles, and doesn't make a gesture when he sees his own shirts stacked next to his pillow, something Ryo is infinitely grateful for.
In Ryo's eyes, Sakuya seems uncomfortable, tense, and unsure of what to do. He lets out a sigh at the sight of his best friend in this position, very different from the one he was in just a few minutes ago, eating as if nothing had happened.
Maybe it's because there's no real excuse for him to be there now. No reason other than Ryo's need to stay close to him.
"I know I asked you, but you shouldn't do it if you're uncomfortable," Ryo says. Despite his inner omega telling him to be quiet, to enjoy the alpha in his space, in his nest, Ryo can't override the nascent desires of his inner omega with the overwhelming shame.
"It's okay, I'm just not used to it," the boy tells him. Ryo can't help but feel moved by the idea of Sakuya, who knows nothing about omegas beyond what Ryo himself knows, willing to enter a nest for the comfort of his friend and nothing more. "It's very comfortable," he adds, and Ryo could cry.
It's all just too stressful, too much, all at once.
His skin is uncomfortable in his bones. He listens to desires and has instincts that weren't there before today, and he feels almost alone, in a nest that is his own, and yet it feels unfamiliar, prefabricated, and doesn't convey any kind of comfort.
Hearing Sakuya praise his nest is probably the last thing Ryo should be worried about, and yet, still.
He sniffs back his tears before they escape and curls up next to Sakuya, turning his back on him, refusing to let the younger see his flushed face. He's sure he has a fever again.
"I want to sleep. Just sleep with me, please," he begs, and Sakuya, like the helpful alpha he is, complies.
Sakuya wraps him in his arms (very close, closer than he's ever been, and it should be uncomfortable, but on the contrary, it calms him) and, without letting go, sniffs the back of his neck. Not directly on the gland that remains hypersensitive, but close enough to feel like the scent of sweet peaches envelops his entire body.
It's a dense, incredibly thick scent that sticks to his brain like honey, leaving it clumsy and malleable against his skin. It's as if all his bones have turned to jelly, melting senselessly at the mere touch of Sakuya's nose on his neck.
"What are you doing?" Ryo asks. The sensation of his body turning liquid just from this is unfamiliar, but he doesn't have the strength to be scared. He's pleased with the effect it has on him, his brain barely able to put together words as they disintegrate on his tongue.
It's like someone's massaging his brain exactly where he's been tense all this time and he didn't even know it.
"I'm scenting you," Sakuya says, letting his nose sniff the back of his neck and get close to his gland, then go all over his hair, the back of his ears and even his shoulders. "I heard it helps calm the symptoms," he adds, then moves the tip of his nose too close to his gland, making him melt in his arms. "Is it working?"
Ryo doesn't know what he answers, doesn't know if he answers at all. Right now, he's too busy turning into human mush.
He can't describe the sensation; there are so many, and all of them are good—something he hasn't felt in days.
Ryo feels warm, but it's comfortable, and it doesn't feel like it's burning, but rather as if his body relaxes from the anxiety that stalked him. He can taste the peaches of Sakuya's scent melting on his tongue as if it were like sugar. His mouth is full of it when he breathes, but it's pleasant, comfortable, and almost homey.
It's as if his whole body has become calm, much more so than when Sion did it the last time. Maybe it's because Sakuya's scent is more compatible with his than Sion's, or maybe it's because Sakuya seems interested in Ryo's scent, and it's not just a passing caress.
Ryo regrets having turned his back on Sayuka when he has the urge to hug him and press his own nose to the younger's gland.
If it were another time, if Ryo didn't feel so pleased with being pampered, the shame would be much greater. But he doesn't have the space to feel that way.
Being an omega isn't so bad, he thinks, without holding on to a single bone of sanity. It's not bad if he can feel so coddled by his members.
Sakuya pulls away, and Ryo has to hold back the plea "Don't go away," which reaches the tip of his tongue.
Ryo takes the opportunity to roll over, facing Sakuya. Ryo doesn't have the strength to meet Sakuya’s gaze, so he buries his face in his chest. Sakuya gladly accepts, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to keep him close.
Sakuya's sweet peach smells different in the air when Ryo takes the opportunity to sniff Sakuya. Although he doesn't dare get too close to the gland that adorns his neck, he can fervently smell the scent.
It's peaches, but it's something more. It takes him a few minutes to realize the second scent is actually his. Citrusy, similar to orange but not exactly that, very similar to lemon but not that either. It's a hybrid of the two, and if he pushes it, Ryo might also catch a faint hint of grapefruit.
It's the first time he can smell himself so clearly, and it's probably because his scent mingles with Sakuya's around him.
"You smell calm," Sakuya says, very quietly, almost a whisper.
Ryo doesn't respond at first, but he can tell Sakuya is right.
For the first time in days, he doesn't feel a bit anxious. Ryo doesn't feel like his nest is incomplete. He doesn't feel like he needs to fix it or tidy it up. The fever isn't burning his eyelashes, nor could all the sweat on his skin make him feel upset right now.
He remembers himself last night, alone, cold, and lonely. In a nest that doesn't feel like his own, and with a smell that makes him cry, which today he can recognize as the smell of his own anxiety. All of that seems so far away now.
None of that is close to being the reality of this moment.
When the heat passes and he feels normal again, Ryo'll regret everything he's done and said. He'll be ashamed of his bad mood and all the tears he's shed in solitude.
But for now, while he has a low fever and a nest that finally feels full, he's just going to enjoy it, even if it's just a little.
"Thank you," Ryo says, also in a whisper. Sakuya doesn't respond, but the sweet scent that overwhelms Ryo as soon as he breathes again is enough to know that Sakuya is grateful as well.
Ryo sleeps, wrapped in Sakuya's arms and their scent combined, clinging to his nest.
The next day, when Ryo opens his eyes again, the fever is almost gone, but he's too sleepy to think about anything other than continuing to sleep. Sakuya feeds him, gives him water, and insists he go to the bathroom, which he reluctantly does.
He sleeps almost the entire third day of his heat with a peace he hadn't experienced before, probably thanks to Sakuya in his nest, who tries to bring a pile of his hyungs' extra clothes, each one deeply soaked by their scents. Sakuya even tries to arrange them around the nest, but Ryo ends up rearranging it himself when he wakes up. With the scent of his pack and Sakuya around him, his nest, which he's been detesting since day one, finally feels comfortable.
It's a shame that the next day his heat ends. Ryo wakes up with no symptoms other than discomfort from sweating and from wearing the same clothes for two days straight, curled up in the same sheets for four days straight.
He takes a long bath and takes apart the nest in the solitude of his room, but he doesn't feel alone at all. He contemplates the way he himself arranged the fabrics as he separates them for washing, thinking about how he should arrange them better for next time.
He's halfway done when the door opens without warning. All the members enter the room with hats and pompoms singing Happy Birthday. Riku holds a cake that undoubtedly goes against his diet, but he'll eat it anyway; it has at least six candles on it. Everyone sings in chorus as Sion almost forcibly places the birthday hat on his head.
When they finish singing, Ryo stops for a second to look at all the members, who are smiling widely, waiting for him to blow out the candles. His gaze stays fixed on Sakuya, who looks at him with such joy that anyone would think it was his own birthday cake instead of Ryo's.
He blows out the candles with his eyes closed, and everyone claps around him. Sion fills his nose with whipped cream and sees Yushi put a finger to the cake to taste the cream himself.
"Happy belated birthday, Ryo," Sakuya says. He hears Riku say something similar, but he isn't paying attention; he just looks at Sakuya, who's also looking at him.
His nest is half-destroyed, his room smells too much like himself right now, but it's also slowly filling with all the other scents of his pack as they try to cut the cake to eat.
Maybe it hasn't been a good birthday for him, but at least he has an attentive pack, and even more importantly, he has Sakuya, who comes over to ruffle his hair and joke about his surprised expression.
Ryo doesn't know what he'll do during his next heat: if he'll make a better nest, if he'll ask Sakuya to scent him again, if his fever will lessen, or if the discomfort will appear at all.
He just hopes to know what to do about the butterflies that terrify his stomach when Sakuya tells him, "You look cute when you're surprised."
He'll deal with that later.