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If you were to ask him, Quinn would say he had a handle on his instincts. He'd say he paid attention to them, made sure to indulge them when necessary and generally, went about his life just like he always had, without any issues.
All of that is true, except Quinn's version of looking after his instincts, and actually looking after his instincts were apparently not the same thing.
So after he was traded, he didn't even realize there was anything wrong with what he was doing, the only thing he was worried about was getting settled in a new city, with his new team.
He'd found his footing eventually—it hadn't even really taken that long in the end—and things settled into a new normal.
He also wasn't—for the first time—the only omega on the team, and it would be that fact, that would turn his world upside down.
Brock had all but yanked him into his nest the first time he'd been invited over for dinner, unbeknownst to him the chaos he was causing in his new teammates meticulously worked out view of the world.
A group of them had sat around after a small dinner, conversations going on around Quinn that he was half listening to, and he was happy. He'd scored in his first game and it had settled that nagging voice in his head that Wild management had overpayed when they traded for him.
Still, it hadn't even been a month since he'd arrived, so he'd tamped down the spark under his skin that pushed his hands out to touch when the other men was close by, let himself have the moments of closeness when he assisted a goal, relished the clink of their helmets together and smothered the instinct that called for him to scent them at every available opportunity. Just like he always had.
"Can I show you something?" Fabes' quiet murmur snapped him back to the present.
He nodded, passing his empty plate down to Moose who was beginning the clean up and followed the other man down the hall.
Brock had a slightly apprehensive look on his face, like he wasn't quite sure he was making the right call and for the first time in a while Quinn paid proper attention to the scents around him.
Citrus and bergamot permeated the space, calming and soft but strongest near the door.
"I know we don't really talk about it much, and it's mostly because the guys are so used to it with me, and they don't want to cross boundaries with you, but I noticed—well, we all noticed—that you don't…" Quinn realized like a brick to the face what he was getting at.
"Oh, you guys picked up on that, huh?" Brock's shoulders dropped with a quick exhale of breath.
"Yeah! Yeah and like, there's nothing wrong with it, if you don't want to then that's fine, but I guess what I'm trying—what we're trying—to say is that if you want to, then you can, but also that there's no pressure," and then the other omega was opening the door and Quinn could feel his ignored instincts flaring to life like a bird taking flight.
The room was dimly lit, soft bulbs illuminating opposite corners. The mattress on the floor was barely visible, covered with soft looking blankets and pillows of varying densities padding out the walls. The thing that struck him the most however, were the layered scents in the room.
Logically he knew this was how a nest was supposed to be, and moreso that this was how packs operated. But he hadn't seen it first hand since he was still living at home with his brothers.
The Cannucks felt differently about omega needs as both an organisation and as a team. So bonding and more importantly scenting, was a thing reserved for when he and his brothers got together in the off season, and it was always Jack who made the nest.
Brock nudged him with his hip, pushing his feet over the threshold in place of the usual verbal invitation. He thought it was a little odd, weren't omega's normally territorial about foreign scents? Someone had told him that once when he'd asked to be scented by a teammate back in his rookie days.
His fingers skimmed the outer edge of the nest, a whine creeping up his throat that he choked off before it could get too much oxygen. Brock was leaning against the door frame watching him, a tentative smile on his face.
He pulled back, a hesitation baked into him from years of keeping a lock on the things he craved. But that's what being an omega was, it was performing and showing up and doing everything you can for the team and then going home and crowding close around the hours old scents that were lingering on his hoodie.
"Can I—"
"Yes! Yes please, do you want me to get the others? Or we can..just us omega's?" Brock was almost vibrating with excitement.
The nest was big enough for five or six people and he wondered how common it was for Brock to have everyone in here. His old coach had said nests were for omega's and their mates, not packs.
"Are you okay with having them in here?" he asked, just a hint of dubiousness in his tone, eyes flicking between the nest and the other man.
"What? Yeah of course I am. Don't you—didn't your pack nest up in Vancouver?" Brock was listening for the answer as he ducked behind the door, motioning with his hand to what Quinn assumed was a waiting group of his teammates in the kitchen.
He avoided answering the question by giving a non-committal hum and turning to settle amongst the pillows, eyeing the door as Kap, Moose, Boldy, Fabes and Zuccy piled through it.
He wondered, if maybe he'd been getting it wrong. This team had welcomed him in like—well, like a pack would. When Jack and Luke had turned up for all of twenty-four hours and gawked at the lack of nest in his bed he sloughed it off with an excuse about settling in, like that wasn't a key part of feeling safe in his own home.
The way they all collapsed into the nest sort of jolted him out of his musings. Fabes landed in the middle next to him, sprawling unapologetically half across his lap and tucking his face close to the gland in his neck.
The others settled in around them, limbs resting around each other without a break in the current conversation.
Quinn felt himself relax into it, let the warmth curl itself around him and seep into those parts of him that had lay empty and cold for as long as he could remember.
Kaprizov had a hand across his torso on his other side, fingers drawing little circles in the fabric of his t-shirt, sandalwood scent blanketing him calm and close. Quinn shifted closer still, tilted his head in the direction of the alpha, honey blond and chocolate brown, sandalwood and dark cherry coming together in something that felt like something deep down he knew to be right.
Boldy rubbed a hand through his hair from across Fabes' body, stroking his thumb across Quinn's forehead in a gesture that reminded him of his brothers.
"If you want any of our stuff for your nest, you just have to ask you know," Quinn tried not to tense, but he knew his body had betrayed him when Fabes whined a little into his neck.
"Or not, it's okay if y—"
"It's not that, it's..I don't have one." Five heads popped up from where they were laying, five sets of eyes, pupils blown wide in concern all staring at him.
And then they all started talking at once,
"Hughesy you cannot be—"
"Don't you need—"
"What do you mean you—"
"How are you still—"
"Quinny, no—"
"Guys!" Brock yelled over all of them, stopping them all in their tracks.
Quinn was glad of the reprieve, but he shrank back a little as they now stared at him in silence.
"It's not a big deal I just haven't…It's not..It's fine you guys, really, Not every omega needs one right?"
Moose snorted with derision before saying, "What fucking idiot taught you that?"
Some silent conversation was going on through pointed eye contact around him, but Quinn was more focussed on the low rumbling coming from Kaprizov's chest.
His grip on him had gotten a little tighter, fingers now fully tangled in his shirt to drag him until there was no space left between them at all. So he let himself fold into that non existent space between them, rested his head against a muscled but soft shoulder and closed his eyes as unbeknownst to him, a decision was agreed upon around him.
It started, as these things do, quietly and without fanfare. During practice one afternoon, Kaprizov shook his gloves off before he clasped the back of his neck, pulling himself in close to talk strategy as they glided back over to the bench. Quinn barely noticed the subtle scenting gesture for what it was until he got home that night.
Zuccy tossed a hoodie in his bag after a morning skate and then ducked out before Quinn could question it. Boldy was trying to be subtle when he handed over a 'blanket for the couch', although he'd learnt that out of all of them Fabes and Boldy had the subtlety of two bulls in a nursery.
He found he didn't mind though, that he quite enjoyed it, actually. It was one of those situations where you didn't know that you were missing something until you had it again. And he had it by the bucketload.
Even when Kap had been circling him and Fabes on the ice in what could be construed as an alpha marking out a 'do not cross' line to other alpha's on the rink, he found it warmed that thing inside him.
He still wasn't really sure why they were doing it, and no-one had brought it up again, so he just let them do what they wanted and tried not to think about it too hard.
This went on for another two weeks before he first realized something was different within himself. They were all hanging out at his apartment, watching the Sharks dog walk the Panthers on live TV, bodies spread out across the vast couches in his living room when something in his brain started nagging at him.
Brock was closest to him, although still a couple of feet away, but he turned his head when Quinn let out a noise that sounded an awful lot like omega in distress.
That was ridiculous though, wasn't it? He was fine. This was not even remotely a stressful environment, they were hanging out, and worse than that, he'd never let out a whine like that in his life.
"Hughesy? You okay buddy?" Brock asked, moving closer, nudging his elbow against his arm in concern. Warmth flashed where they touched, even through the fabric of his Henley.
"Yeah—yeah I think so, sorry, I don't know what that was," Quinn replied.
Brock nodded, lifting his arm in invitation and Quinn had to hold himself back from diving into the empty spot. He wasn't that successful.
It was at that point, he realized something was different. The minute he curled into the other omega's side that nagging feeling in the base of his skull ceased, replaced by a hit of dopamine that felt like he was being wrapped in a warm blanket. Safe, warm, pack.
Fabes ran his fingers through his hair, teasing out the curls before starting their descent from his crown once again and Quinn let himself be petted, nestled a little closer into his side to watch the rest of the period.
When Brock got up to get more snacks before the third, Quinn found himself moving with him, lingering against the kitchen island as the other omega raided the cupboards. He didn't even realize he was doing it until Brock dumped the snacks on the table and made a move for the bathroom.
He stood there staring at the empty space with a lost feeling swirling in his stomach. He clamped his hands to his sides, avoiding the urge to—what the fuck was he doing?
"Quinny?" A hand slid across the base of his spine and, oh.
That's what Jack had been talking about with Nico then. He let himself be turned around by Kaprizov, let him move them both back to the couch with gentle hands and curled up in the corner next to the alpha that smelled like sandalwood and safety.
When the Sharks won and everybody had left, he didn't think too hard about the various jumpers and scarves his teammates seemed to have forgotten. He folded them neatly and placed the pile in the corner to be redistributed back to their owners at practice the following morning.
It was 2am—hours of tossing and turning and never being quite comfortable—when he found himself redistributing them to his bed and finally, falling asleep.
The second time he noticed something had changed in him was while they were on the road in Toronto. And it wasn't even him that noticed it first.
He was in his room, re-arranging his sheets for the third time when Fabes dropped by.
"You nearly ready to go? They're waiting for us downstairs…" He tapered off his question, eyeing him with the kind of trepidation one would afford a cornered animal.
"Hey, Quinny? Everything okay?" Quinn looked up, slightly startled at the other omega standing in his space, he hadn't even realized he was there.
"I just—it's all wrong," he ran his hands through his hair as he said it, sour cherry leaching out of his scent glands.
"Okay. Okay hey," Fabes moved closer, coming to stand between him and the bed, a hand resting at the juncture between Quinn's shoulder and neck.
"Maybe there was a miscommunication downstairs, it's okay, we can fix this." Brock asked and that got Quinn's attention.
"What-what do you mean?" Brock tilted his head to the side, eyed him for a beat as he chose his next words carefully.
"Well it's just..normally I ask them not to make my bed when we're away…" Brock could see Quinn wasn't getting it.
"You know…because I don't want them to mess with my nest," he tried again.
"But why would that be a problem for me? This isn't-I haven't-I just like things to be a certain way," Quinn could hear the uncertainty in his own voice, there was no way the other omega hadn't clocked it too.
"Hey, Quinny, can I hug you?" Quinn was nodding before he even finished the sentence, collapsing into the broad chest of the other man and letting out a whimper as muscled arms closed around him.
When they finally pulled apart Quinn felt a little more stable, less like his skin was crawling and the urge to cry had dissipated to a manageable level. Safe, pack, omega.
Fabes' phone started ringing, jolting them both out of their little safe bubble and dropping them right back amongst the sour cherry scent still permeating every surface.
Brock answered, one arm still wrapped around his hip and listened to the voice on the other line.
"Yeah, look, change of plans, we're gonna order pizza to the room and watch a movie, can you corral Kaprizov and the others and meet us in my room? Bring some extra clothes too." Quinn let himself be led out the door as Brock finished his phonecall, taking one last irritated look at his bed before slamming the door shut behind them.
Fabes' room was the total opposite of whatever the fuck he'd just left behind. It looked like one of those rooms you saw in omega magazines. Everything was soft light and soft furnishings and Quinn wanted to cry at how much he craved it.
He heard the others before he saw them, a cacophony of voices echoing down the hall way before a sharp knock on the open door.
"Knock-knock, someone order the services of the best pack in the NHL?" Moose looked far too pleased with his little joke as they made their way into the room.
Quinn watched as Boldy grabbed at Fabes, whispering something in his ear while they scented each other. He should have been—but wasn't—surprised to find Kaprizov sitting down next to him on the bed.
The alpha seemed to gravitate towards him at any given opportunity, always somewhere just within reach to offer a scent gland to brush against, a hand to help him over the boards during a game and more recently, a neck in which to nuzzle his head.
Which was what he was doing now, although he hadn't even realized he was doing it. Still, the other man didn't seem to mind, would just flash him that toothy smile and open his arms in invitation, letting out that smooth sandalwood scent that settled Quinn's nervous system.
"What happened Quinny? Smell sad," Kaprizov murmured against his head, leaning back a little until their eyes met.
"I guess I was uhm…it's-it's stupid it doesn't really matter," Quinn replied, staring at the gold chain glinting off the light to avoid the inevitable roll of the eyes he was so used to seeing from his former teammates.
Kap wouldn't have it though, the pads of his fingers resting warm against Quinn's chin to tilt it up into his eye line again.
"Not stupid, Quinny, never stupid."
By the time the pizza's had arrived, they'd got some comedy playing on the TV and Quinn had folded his limbs into the smallest possible shape he could in order to tuck himself up against Kap. Brock had all put pushed him into the nest he'd made on the bed, which admittedly would have struck him as odd if it weren't for the fact he was plastered to his other side while the others settled on the floor.
The clothes he'd heard Brock ask for had been dumped in a pile on the bed. Quinn couldn't help but stare at them every five minutes. Why had Fabes even asked for them if he wasn't going to use them? It felt like a waste for them to just sit there.
He nudged Brock, "why did you ask them to bring the clothes?" The other omega blinked his eyes open, a little smile cracking across his lips.
"Oh! They're for you, help yourself," Quinn thought it over for a second before responding.
"But this is your nest, not mine…" Brock stared at him for a few seconds before sitting up a little.
"Yeah, but yours got wrecked, and I like sharing, do your worst," and then he was getting off the bed and going to wrap himself around Boldy on the floor, leaving Quinn open mouthed at the brazen nature of the request.
Kap moved, or he tried to, except Quinn had a death grip on his shirt. With a squawk of embarrassment he dropped it like it was burning him. Kap just laughed, dropped a kiss to his forehead like that was just something they did and scooted to the edge of the nest, eyes fixed on the TV.
So Quinn got to work, balling up different T-shirts and hoodies, rubbing his face against them when he was sure no one was looking until there was an extra layer added to the bed, scents smelling a little brighter with the new items.
No one was looking at him though, in fact they were acting like what he was doing wasn't totally odd behaviour for someone his age.
Except, well, he supposed that Fabes had no issue indulging his instincts in front of the rest of the team, and they seemed to welcome the displays of affection when he demanded them. It was one of those things he tried not to think too hard about, lest his carefully constructed world view completely topple down around him.
But then, it had started to come down a little, hadn't it? The foundations remained strong, but those upper levels? They had come down somewhere between the hoodie Kap had tugged over his head one afternoon when the wind was blowing something fierce, and the cuddle pile that had ensued after they'd won in overtime against the Kraken.
So he reached for Kap, tugging at his shoulder with a tentative smile.
The alpha shuffled back to his original spot, careful not to disturb any of the new additions and pulled Quinn to his chest with a satisfied rumble.
"Very pretty nest Quinny," Kap murmured into his hair, splaying his big hand across his back.
"It's not really mine—"
"Still did good, you bad at taking compliments. Will work on that." Quinn flushed, partly because he wasn't wrong, and partly because the compliment had set him off purring gently. Safe, alpha, pack.
The next time they stayed in a hotel, housekeeping didn't make his bed, even though he didn't remember asking them not to.
The game against the Panthers had been brutal on everyone, but Quinn felt it the most. The atmosphere in the locker room was somber, interlaced with white hot rage and it was setting Quinn on edge.
It wasn't like he hadn't been exposed to that before, God knows they'd had plenty of losses in Vancouver. It wasn't even like he hadn't been exposed to it here in Minnesota, somehow though, this was different. He was different.
His skin was crawling, itching with little pinpricks of discomfort as he eyed the room. He couldn't cope with this, he wanted to scream and he didn't even know why. So he chucked on his t-shirt and bolted for the door the minute coach had stopped talking.
If he'd been less focussed on finding somewhere safe, soft, warm he'd have heard his name being yelled out behind him. Instead, he slipped through the building to the staff parking lot and drove home resisting the urge to scratch his skin raw.
His apartment was cold when he got back. He knew he needed to figure out how to set the heating on a timer, but he found it hadn't bothered him all that much until now.
Now though, now it was seeping into his bones, wrapping around every cell in his body until he could no longer stop the shakes reverberating through him.
His brain wouldn't settle, flitting from one thought to the next in a jumble of half baked thoughts and settling only briefly on safe, nest, alpha before abandoning that in search of something less scary.
Once the tears started they wouldn't stop, trailing scolding hot down his cheeks against the unbreakable chill of something he didn't even know how to address.
He shuffled around in his agony, dialing the heat up until it wouldn't go any further and sifting through the pile of clothes on the chair next to his bed until he found what he was apparently searching for.
The sandalwood scent was a few days old, only strong in places where Quinn hadn't furiously rubbed his face against it late at night when that voice in his head wouldn't settle.
He poked his head through the neck hole and pulled the draw strings tighter, fingertips working their way through the arms until he could wrap the cuffs round his fist in a piss poor semblance of a hug.
The cold still permeated even with the heater on blast, and he had just finished curling himself into a ball on the couch when a loud banging startled him. Someone was at his door.
He had no desire to open it, decided against moving to even see who it was when a voice sounded out, filtering through the varnished wood like a balm to his shredded nerves.
"Quinny? I come in? Want to check on you after game, team is worried when you run away." Kaprizov's voice yanked a whine from his throat that wouldn't be out of place at a funeral, all high pitched and full of sorrow.
He heard the key turn in the lock, the little snick as it flicked back into its hold and the door swung open.
They'd exchanged spare keys after Quinn had locked himself out and spent four hours hanging out on the other man's couch waiting for the building manager to let him in, and he'd never been more grateful that they had.
The Russian looked bereft as he scanned the apartment, eyes finally settling on the distraught omega bundled up on the couch. Quinn didn't have the energy to be embarrassed about being caught wearing the other man's hoodie, didn't even have the energy to move from where he was sitting as Kaprizov kicked his shoes off and moved further into the room.
"Omega," Kap's voice broke on the word, like he couldn't bear to see Quinn so sad. He sat down on the couch, moving something from his hands to sit on his other side before turning his full attention to the still crying man.
"Moyo Solntse," he whispered, hands coming up to cup his face, thumbs brushing away the escaped tears in a move so tender Quinn wanted to burn it into his brain forever.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, something solid and silent going unspoken between unbroken eye contact and warmth against cold.
Eventually, the tears stopped and for the first time since the door had opened, Quinn focused on what the other man had been holding.
Kap followed his eyeline,"for your nest, I collect from team before I left," he said gently, opening his arms to show the mass of green clothing, varying scents diffusing into the space between them.
Quinn was too distracted by the way his brain lit up at the word nest to be worried about courtesy as he snatched them up from the alpha's arms, something deep in the recesses of his mind finally clicking into place.
The Russian didn't say anything, just sagged a little with relief at the way Quinn latched onto the clothes. Quinn got up, mind focussed on getting to his bedroom before he stopped. He turned, reached a tentative hand towards the alpha lounging back on his couch and nodded his head towards his bedroom.
Building a nest was supposedly a private thing, something done in the quiet of a home belonging to a bonded couple, something to be hidden away and never spoken of.
Except, well maybe that wasn't as true as he'd been led to believe. Maybe, the foundations of his beliefs were so chipped and cracked from the weeks spent with this team that they were beginning to crumble away to nothing.
So he pulled his alpha—he'd decided that now, Kap was his—around his apartment, opening the door to the spare room and handing over the pile of team clothes he was carrying, other hand still clasped warm and tight.
He grabbed the blankets that smelled of his brothers, draping them over Kap's shoulder before opening the spare closet and feeling through the different materials, tongue caught between his teeth.
Kaprizov let himself be walked around, occasionally hoisting up the every growing pile of nesting materials on his shoulder and never once looking at his omega with anything less than unadulterated affection.
When Quinn finally headed for his bedroom he stopped short in the doorway, some instinct he wasn't aware he had telling him to leave the alpha at the threshold.
Kap didn't say anything, just smiled indulgently in a way that said 'It's okay, I understand, do what you need to do'.
So he did, taking the pile of items he'd pilfered from around the place, dumping them in the middle of the bed and with a final sledgehammer to those remaining foundations, started building his nest.
He didn't know how long it took him arranging and re-arranging pillows and blankets until they formed a wall around the edge of the bed, only breaking his concentration to glance at the alpha perched against his doorframe, head titled back with his eyes closed, body relaxed and scent calm.
Quinn rolled his bottom lip between his teeth as he analysed his work, reaching up to move Fabes' scent drenched hoodie closer to the pillows and nodding to himself.
"I think I'm done," he murmured quietly, tamping down the nerves as Kap's eyes flicked open.
The alpha was quiet for a beat, reorientating himself to the now dimmed lights—a nice little perk of his new apartment.
"This most beautiful nest I've ever seen, did very good job omega, perfect nest." It landed like the statement of intent that it was, paired with warm hands wrapping around him from behind, head nestled into the curve of his neck with a satisfied sigh.
"Will you stay?" Quinn asked gingerly, turning a little in the other mans arms.
"Yes moyo solntse, always."
So Quinn led him to the edge of the bed, stripped them of their clothes until they were only in their boxers, tucking the other mans clothes into a space he'd left, and settled surrounded by the scents of his team.
"Your scent is favourite, smell like blossom in Moscow," his alpha whispered, turning on his side until they were facing each other.
Their legs tangled together, the cold that had buried Quinn an hour ago now a distant memory as warmth enveloped him from all sides. Kaprizov pushed an arm under his head, shifting until he was resting a pink cheek against a soft bicep.
Kap's other hand skimmed his ribs, finger tips dancing along his skin like he couldn't quite believe he was getting to have this and well, Quinn felt the same.
He nuzzled closer still, until there was nothing between them, rubbing his nose against the juncture of the other man's neck, cherry and sandalwood scents blanketing them both.
"I didn't know I could have this," Quinn whispered into the quiet, "I thought-I thought—" his breath hitched and the tears that came this time were equal parts happy and sad. Sad for the life that was robbed from him, happy for the life he now had.
"Is okay, will be okay now omega," the other man said. He moved his hand then, bringing it up to cup Quinn's face and after weeks of wanting, placed his lips on his.
Quinn purred into it, mouth opening in delight as the other man explored, tongue poking against his like he wanted to map out every millimetre of him.
When they pulled apart, lips glistening in a way that begged them to come back together, Quinn breathed heavy. The voice in his head that had tentatively led him to this moment rejoiced, repeating the same words over and over.
Calm.
Warm.
Safe.