Work Text:
It’s only mid-afternoon that he realizes it. He’s engrossed in reading a file he’d nabbed from the absent Kiyomizu’s desk-- not that the man cared-- when he becomes aware of the smell. It’s delicate, cloying, a hint of chocolate, something like tobacco or mint. He looks up, peering around the room. Saeki and Kamei are preparing for lunch, and Teppei is nowhere to be found.
It’s just the four of them-- that is, Haru, Saeki, Kamei, and Kambe, currently across the room from him, curled over one of the tables. That in itself makes Haru frown. It’s not common to see the man slumped like that, all of his haughty regality suddenly missing.
Haru inhales again, straightening in his seat. It’s definitely an omega’s scent, and an omega in preheat at that. He frowns, something like anxiety tensing in him. Kamei is a beta; Saeki is an omega, but she’s far from her heat and always takes an overly long leave from hers, which leaves…
He knows that Kambe is an omega. He’s mentioned it before, though only with a detached disinterest, as if he were talking about the weather. It had hardly come up, anyway. Haru didn’t ask much, because it wasn’t his place.
Still, he’d always wondered. The man usually used a semi-strong scent blocker, keeping his scent almost entirely absent. Haru only got a whiff every so often, after long missions when the blockers began to wear off. It was, he could admit in the privacy of his mind, a lovely scent. Smoky, a bit abnormal for an omega.
This smell, though, was different. It was sweeter, though as he inhaled again, standing from his seat, he could smell that smokiness lingering, menthol and tobacco. As he crosses the room, he can hear Kamei and Saeki beginning to leave for the lunch hour.
“Haru? Kambe? Are you coming to lunch?”
Haru stops beside the table Kambe is stooped over.
“...You go on, Saeki. Kambe and I have some things to go over.”
Behind him, Kamei snorts. “You’re such a workaholic, Katou.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bring me something back from the convenience store, would you?”
“If I remember."
The sound of the door closing seems to startle Kambe from wherever his mind’s gone, and he finally looks up. When he tilts his head up to see Haru standing over him, his expression is truly pitiful. His eyes are almost dazed, wet and a bit unfocused, blinking up at the man in front of him. His cheeks are flushed as though fevered.
The instinct that rises in Haru takes him aback for its intensity. Something protective and pitying overcomes him, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. This is just common alpha instinct, he tells himself. He has to protect his pack-- his team. His people. And whether he likes it or not, that includes Kambe.
Still, it’s hard to ignore the way his stomach clenches at the soft, sweet scent. It’s far from the familial instinct he feels for Saeki or any other omega he knows. This is something stronger, something nearly possessive. Every instinct is telling him to take Kambe away from here and get him somewhere safe. Beneath that, though, his stomach churns with heat at the sweet scent and the disarmed, soft look of the man before him.
He feels almost guilty for having such a strong reaction. Kambe is obviously having a bad time here, sent into preheat at work, and here Haru is, with a heated feeling spreading though him as he takes in the omega’s misery. He tries his best to rein himself in and clears his throat. “You’re going into heat?”
Kambe gives him a slow blink, like a cat.
“...Right, I’ll call Suzue to come get you.”
One of Kambe’s hands shoots out to latch onto his coat, tugging on it like a kid.
“What? You don’t want me to call her? Should I… Um, you have HEUSC, right? You want to call her yourself?”
“She doesn’t know.”
The alpha is taken back by how small and weary the man’s voice is. He frowns, scratching his neck. “Well, yeah, I assumed she doesn’t know you just went into heat--” He pauses, seeing the way Kambe shifts uncomfortably. Haru’s eyebrows knit. “She doesn’t know? That you’re an omega?”
“I didn’t want her to think of me as weak.”
“I don’t think she would. Suzue doesn’t seem the type to judge because of those kinds of things.”
Kambe doesn’t respond, looking down at his lap. From where he stands, Haru can see the way the flush has spread from his ears to the back of his neck. The smell has gotten stronger, too, filling the room. It almost makes Haru light-headed in its intensity.
“Alright, well you definitely can’t stay here.” Haru hesitates, clearing his throat. If Kambe won’t go back to his fancy mansion, and he can’t stay here, it’s hard to think of a place he would be comfortable. “Do you want to go to a hotel?”
“No.”
The answer is immediate, final. It makes sense, of course-- being around a lot of strangers isn’t ideal right now. But it still makes Haru’s stomach sink. That only leaves one option. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. You can stay at my place, then.”
Kambe doesn’t move except for the way his shoulders tense into one straight line.
“...Oi. Did you hear me? You can-”
“That isn’t necessary,” Kambe says, voice tight.
“Well where else do you think you’re going to stay?”
When the omega doesn’t answer, Haru sighs again and reaches out tentatively, gently shoving Kambe’s shoulder. “Come on. Get up. Lunch is only so long; do you want everyone else to come back and smell you- Whoa-”
Kambe jerks to standing, wobbling on his feet and shaking off Haru’s hand. He doesn’t say anything else as he steadies himself and frowns at Haru. His pupils are slightly blown, and there’s a faint pink flush on his cheeks. It makes him look soft around the edges. Haru’s chest feels tight. He nods.
“Yeah, you’re coming with me.”
Kambe makes an odd noise in the back of his throat, nearly a squeak. It’s so unlike him that Haru almost laughs. The whole situation is so absurd that he wants to laugh, but he doesn’t think Kambe would take well to that right now, so he bites his tongue and gathers his things. On the whiteboard, he signs the both of them out for the rest of the day.
When he looks back at Kambe, the omega is frowning. “You aren’t coming back?”
“I don’t trust you to take care of yourself. You couldn’t do it without your money on a good day; I can’t imagine how you are during your heat.”
Just saying it out loud makes something in Haru fluster. It feels more real by the minute as the scent of preheat gets stronger and Kambe’s shoulders slump further, his eyes growing hazier as he tries to glare at the alpha.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right.”
Seemingly accepting his fate, Kambe lets himself be led out of the office.
------
Haru really didn’t think this through.
The smell is only more distracting in the cramped space of his apartment. The moment they’d gotten inside, Kambe had all but collapsed on his couch, pressing his face into the armrest. It was the most disheveled Haru had ever seen him. His hair had begun to come unstuck, the gel ruined. His shirt was wrinkled. It was highly unsettling.
“I’ll… start tea.”
The only acknowledgement Kambe gives is a muffled sound. Haru can hear him inhaling the scent of his couch which is… also unsettling. The whole place must smell strongly like Haru-- he hardly notices it himself now, of course-- but the couch must smell especially strong with how much time he spends on it.
He putters into the kitchen, mindlessly starting the water.
It’s not unusual, he supposes, for Kambe to seek out a familiar alpha scent. Haru isn’t sure what other alphas are in the man’s life or how many, but he does spend a good amount of time with Haru. It makes sense for him to find the smell at least somewhat comforting, if just for its familiarity.
Still, the thought makes his stomach feel funny, face warm as he steeps the tea. They’re partners; they spend most of their days together. This doesn’t mean anything beyond that Kambe is in trouble, and Haru is able to provide a safe space and a bit of comfort. It means very little that Kambe is currently on the other side of this wall, sniffing his scent from a worn pillow.
Nothing. Just coworker things.
It’s hard to shake the feeling even as he carries the tea to the other room. He nearly spills it over himself when he finds Kambe, now migrated to the floor. He’s shed his jacket, his shirt untucked, and one of his socks is missing. He’s got his face stuck in Haru’s coat, bunched up in his hands.
“Put that down,” Haru hisses. He sets the tea on the coffee table and tries to tug the coat out of the man’s grip. “I’ll give you something else. I don’t want this coat smelling like heat.”
Kambe makes a wounded noise.
“No- I mean, I have to wear it to work tomorrow. Let go.”
Reluctantly, the omega does, instead turning and pressing his face into the couch cushions, sulking. It’s such a childish reaction that Haru has to stifle a snort, shaking his head. He hangs the coat back up. “Drink your tea. I’ll bring you something to…” He shifts on his feet nervously, the words thick in his throat, “Nest with.”
He waits until Kambe lifts his head and peers at the teacup to go into the bedroom. There’s not much material for him to work with: all he has is a futon, a duvet, and a pillow. He fiddles with his closet for a moment, pulling out things which might smell like him, things which are particularly soft, things Kambe might like.
The problem is that Haru doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. He’s never had to help an omega through their heat before, and certainly not one he has such a rocky relationship with. Aside from how unsettling it is for Kambe to be so docile, it makes him uneasy to swallow the responsibility of looking after him in this state, helpless and uninhibited.
When he returns to the main room once again, Kambe has relocated to the couch once again and is staring at his own lap. When Haru grunts and holds out his findings-- a pitiful pile of fabric, really-- he blinks once, twice, slow and stupid.
It’s…cute. Haru chews on the inside of his cheek and coughs once. “Take them. Make your nest.”
“...Thank you,” Kambe says delicately.
That in itself-- a thank you from the rich bastard-- is a novelty. Haru nearly smiles but instead puts his hands on his hips and watches Kambe stare at the blankets. “What’s wrong?” He presses after a few minutes of the omega doing nothing. “Not enough? Wrong materials?”
“I don’t know how.”
Haru gawks. “What do you mean, you don’t know how?”
“I haven’t done it before.”
“What, you have someone to do even that for you, too? Rich bastard…”
“No.”
Scratching his cheek, Haru frowns. “What, then? Been a while?”
“I don’t usually make one.”
“Oh.” For a moment, Haru feels silly for assuming. Maybe not all omegas need that. He hardly has the experience to know what an omega really needs during a heat, aside from… He flushes and refuses to entertain the thought. “Do you not want to? You don’t have to- I mean, I was just- if you want.” He cringes at how useless he sounds.
“I don’t have things to make one at home.”
Delicately, Haru takes a seat beside the omega on the couch. “What, you can’t just buy the right stuff?” He imagines for a moment what kinds of things Kambe would make his nest with at home. Cashmere blankets, downy pillows. Only the most comfortable, expensive things.
Kambe begins to unfold the pile of fabric, holding each item up stiffly. Haru has half a mind to be self-conscious, but he’s too intrigued to care right now. If Kambe does make a nest here, it will be a learning experience for them both, it seems.
“...I don’t have anyone to scent it,” Kambe says at last. He turns and puts a bunched-up sweater, hole-filled and thread-bare, against the armrest. Haru watches, curious, as he fluffs it, then smooths it over, and then nods once to himself. Once again, Haru finds himself thinking that vile word.
Kambe Daisuke is not cute, he reminds himself. And then the omega’s words catch up to him and he frowns. “What? Suzue is an alpha, isn’t she? And even if not, she’s your family. Surely she would-”
“We do not discuss those things.”
Haru’s eyebrows knit. That’s an interesting angle to their dynamic that he wasn’t expecting. It’s something to return to another time, though. For now, he only hands Kambe a blanket and hums. “Would the bed be better? The couch is small…”
The omega stiffens, glancing back at him and then quickly down at the blanket in Haru’s hand, like he doesn’t want to even look at the alpha. Haru supposes it makes sense. He doubts he’s the omega’s first choice of an alpha to spend his heat with, especially when they only bicker. And Haru has proven that he has no idea what he’s doing here.
In fact, the omega probably isn’t thrilled at being surrounded by Haru’s scent. He’s looking at the blanket like a lost little kid.
“...I’ll go… um,” Haru stands and coughs, feeling like he’s intruding in his own home.
Kambe looks up at him again, and Haru realizes his face is getting pinker by the moment.
“Are you- I’ll get you some water.”
Again, he stumbles to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. He finds Kambe lying horizontally now, flat on the couch and stiff as a board. He’s thrown the blanket loosely over himself, still half-folded.
Haru snorts. It looks supremely uncomfortable.
“You aren’t very good at this, you know?”
Kambe gives him a weak glare.
“Sit up and drink this.”
So far, it seems, Haru thinks as he watches Kambe wriggle into a seated position, a far-cry from the poise he usually embodies, that taking care of an omega in heat is much akin to taking care of a sick person. He’d done that plenty of times.
(Although, a nagging voice in the back of his head reminds him, this is only the pre-heat. There is, of course, the pesky matter of what a heat really is. The thought makes Haru’s whole body feel warm. Not that he would ever think of Kambe that way. Or that he would admit to thinking of Kambe that way.)
Kambe drinks the water, watching Haru the whole time. When he finishes, he sets it on the coffee table, lays stiffly back down, and says plainly, “You’re nervous.”
“I’ve never- I mean.”
“You don’t have to…” Kambe averts his eyes to the ceiling. “Tend to my sexual needs.”
Haru nearly cringes. Instead, he puts a hand in his hair and tugs at it, trying not to stammer as he replies, “I wasn’t thinking of it!”
“It would only be natural to assume-”
“I didn’t assume!”
Kambe’s lip twitches into what would be a smirk if he wasn’t so pathetic-looking right now, sweating stains into Haru’s couch.
“Don’t-”
“Lay down, Inspector.”
Eying the couch, Haru frowns. It really isn’t very big, especially with Kambe already on it. They’ll have no choice but to be pressed up against one another. “My feet hang off the end.”
Kambe smiles, this time a bit less smug. It’s almost disorienting in its sincerity. The omega must be slipping further from his usual facilities if he’s being so open. Haru stifles a snicker, then schools his face into something serious.
“Why?”
“Skin to skin contact is helpful in soothing distressed omegas,” Kambe spouts off, like he’s reading from a textbook and not talking about himself.
“Are you distressed?”
“I am approaching heat.”
“You can just say yes instead of talking like a robot,” Haru grumbles, laying beside the man as daintily as he can. He thinks he’s heard that omegas get cuddly in heat. It makes sense. But he can hardly believe Kambe would want to cuddle with him of all people, even if it is currently his only option.
They lay side by side on the couch for a moment, Haru trying not to fall off the edge. He supposes he’s just been invited into an omega’s nest, though nest is a stretch. He’s not sure how to feel about the thought, peeking at Kambe from the corner of his eye.
“Stop staring at me. It’s creepy.”
Kambe makes a sound that Haru can’t decipher, then wriggles closer, turning onto his side until his chest is pressed in a line along Haru’s arm. He’s firm and warm, and the smell of preheat is stronger when he’s this close. The top of his head fits snugly into the crook of Haru’s jaw. Carefully, the alpha takes slow, measured breaths, trying not to inhale too deeply. Despite himself, a part of him is reacting to the proximity and the strange familiarity of it. They’ve only been this close for missions, cramped or hiding or faking it. He’s never had a moment to really feel the omega’s muscled chest against his arm, or soft hair brushing his chin, or his delicate fingers laying on Haru’s chest.
When Haru angles his head down to look at the omega again, he finds Kambe’s eyes closed. That’s probably good. He thinks he’s read before that heats make omegas very tired. It would make sense, he thinks idly, staring at the way Kambe’s lashes fan over his cheek. He himself grows very exhausted before and during his own ruts. It would only follow logic for it to be the same for omegas’ heats.
He frowns. He should read up on this, especially if Kambe plans to spend the rest of his heat here. Or if he plans to spend any future ones here. He doesn’t know why Kambe feels the need to keep this from Suzue, but it’s not his place to press on it, especially when the omega is already in such an unfortunate situation.
It makes him feel gross to have sympathy for the bastard.
Hesitant and slow, like he’s dealing with a scared animal, Haru lays his hand between Kambe’s shoulder blades. The omega doesn’t move. Haru exhales and focuses on the feeling of that strong back rising and falling rhythmically.
Kambe presses closer sleepily. His eyes don’t open as he slots himself more firmly into Haru’s side.
Haru stiffens as he feels something brush against his hip.
Ah. He almost forgot. The most urgent part of a heat. He tries not to disturb Kambe as he attempts to wriggle away, but the omega only presses in closer, curling around Haru’s side, tiredly unaware or uncaring of the way his erection is brushing against Haru’s hip.
The alpha sighs, resigning to his fate. When he looks back down at Kambe, eyes closed and breathing slowly, nearly asleep, he could swear he sees that smug smirk again.