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The thing that people rarely ever understood about heats was just how worse they got once someone accidentally ran out of heat suppressants.
And, well, it seemed like it was time for Matt to understand it properly.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was fully aware just how terrible it was to cut any type of medication pretty much out of nowhere — his psychiatrist had told him over and over again that going cold turkey with his anxiety medication was probably the worst idea, and Matt had done it, anyway. Only once and never again.
This was the main reason why he was so fucking careful with his heat suppressants — or well, any medication — in the first place. Always checking everything, making sure he picked up his prescription on time, calling his insurance company ahead to ensure all the papers were in order, despite the anxiety it was causing him.
So, what even happened? Well, they'd been busy, all three of them, and there was a possibility that he'd forgotten to pick up his medication on time like he usually did. It was a stupid mistake — he knew that, okay? — and now he was suffering the consequences.
And what were the consequences? So very glad you asked.
Truth be told, he had only gone into a heat once when he was thirteen, the very first time he'd presented, and he barely remembered any of it. Most of it was spent in a strange haze, and he barely had any recollection of those few hours before doctors put him on heat suppressants.
But now, unfortunately, Matt was far more aware of what was happening to him. His body was feeling heavy, so even turning to his side seemed like an impossible task, while he could feel how his insides were slowly burning up. His muscles were tense, hurting in ways that not even the worst, most brutal workout routine had ever caused him, and a headache was settling right behind his eyes, making his vision blurry.
Matt had never been one to be overdramatic, but he was pretty sure he was about to fucking die.
Through the haze that was settling inside his mind, seemingly taking away his senses, he could hear a faint echo of footsteps, coming closer and closer to his room. Was death walking down the hallways, about to take him out of his misery? That would've been nice — definitely better than whatever the fuck he was going through right now.
"Oh, sweetheart."
Huh, Matt knew that voice — it definitely wasn't death taking pity on him, though — but his mind refused to cooperate to actually assign a name to it. Despite that, he didn't panic. The voice was kind, gentle, and definitely worried. Whoever it was, they had the best intentions, Matt was sure of it.
"Hey, Matt, are you with me?"
Finally, Matt forced his eyes to open, blinking slowly to bring the focus back into his vision. Ah, of course — Nick was here. His older brother was going to make this better. Nick had always known how to get rid of all the monsters for Matt, because that was simply who he was.
Nick smiled, despite the situation, pressing his lips against Matt's forehead for a second too long. "You're burning up, honey," he murmured once he pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together.
Matt only whined in response, his dry mouth refusing to string any sentences together. He had completely forgotten how vulnerable a heat left him, just how defenseless he was before any threat. But, well, it didn't really matter that much, did it? Because Nick was here.
"Do you think you can wait a little, sweetheart?" asked Nick, his voice light. "I'm going to grab some stuff for you, okay? I'm going to be quick."
"No," groaned Matt, shifting closer to Nick, despite more pain coursing through his body.
Nick chuckled, pressing a fleeing kiss against Matt's temple. "Chris is about to get here, honey. And I'll be back before you know it — we need to cool you down a little, yeah? You're gonna feel much better after that."
"Chris?" mumbled Matt, unable to fully finish his question, but he was sure Nick understood. Their triplet bond and everything about it.
Nick hummed, pushing strands of hair from Matt's face that got stuck to his damp forehead. "He went out to get groceries," he replied with so much patience it made Matt's heart clench in his chest, "and he'll be here in a second, I promise. I called him when I smelled the change in your pheromones, so I'm sure he'll be super quick, yeah?"
"Careful," croaked Matt, looking at Nick through half-lidded eyes.
"Yeah, sweetheart, I told him to drive safe, I promise," said Nick, offering Matt a smile. "Now, I'll just bring you some stuff. Do you want me to bring you some of my and Chris' hoodies and shirts?"
Matt nodded. "Yes, please."
Nick hummed in response, basically sprinting out of the room with another promise of quick return.
It didn't take long for another set of footsteps to be heard from the hallway, before the door opened so swiftly the handle hit the wall, making Matt wince upon hearing the noise.
"Matty," breathed Chris, rushing to lie down right next to Matt, intertwining their fingers together. "Hey, kid. How are you feeling?"
Matt's face twisted into a grimace, but he weakly squeezed Chris' hand. "Bad."
Chris snorted at the honesty. "Yeah, go figure," he replied, shifting closer, until their forehead were pressed together. "How can I help? What do you need me to do?"
Well, and wasn't that an amazing question? This had never happened, and Matt had absolutely zero idea on how to navigate through this situation. Despite that, there was a quiet voice deep inside his brain, talking to him in a hushed tone. Ah, so those were the instincts that Omegas usually talked about, huh?
"Scent," whispered Matt, blinking slowly — the headache had yet to subside, making it almost impossible to keep his eyes properly open.
Something inside him was screaming at him, demanding to be able to smell the scent of his brothers on him, as if using that to find his way to the safe space they had always provided for him. Because, for as long as he could remember, he'd always associated their scent with a sense of safety and comfort, letting himself drown in it anytime the world seemed to be too much.
Chris smiled, nodding his head. "I got you, Matty, I got you."
With that, Matt tilted his head back without showing any hesitation, bearing his neck. Chris carefully rubbed his wrist against the side of Matt's throat, letting their scents mix together. Chris' scent of mint and Matt's scent of rain was slowly becoming one, making Matt let out a pleased sound in response.
"Good job," murmured Chris, "you're doing really, really good."
Despite all the pain that was coursing through his body, Matt smiled once he heard the praise, pushing against Chris' wrist. Truth be told, it'd been ages since they'd even scented each other — when they were younger, it had always been a part of their routine, especially for Matt and Chris. Nick came into their little ritual later, once he was done pulling away from them.
Oh, and how Matt missed it.
Over the years, he'd heard people talk about scenting as if it was something that was purely reserved for romantic partners — he truly begged to differ. And, well, maybe the whole scenting thing had to do with the fact with just how close his bond with his brothers was.
But, for Matt, scenting simply meant comfort and safety. It was one of the very few things that helped with his horrible anxiety attacks when he was younger — Nick and Chris would stay by his side, scent him, and hold his hand through it all.
The door opened once more, and Matt craned his neck just enough to take a look, but the lemon scent was enough to give it away — Nick was finally back.
"Hey, dear," murmured Nick, sitting on the edge of the bed. He set down a few hoodies that Matt immediately grabbed, setting them all around himself almost on instinct. "I know you want to nest, but we need to get your temperature under control."
Nest. Right. Listen, Matt had never dealt with these things — for him, being an Omega was just… a little bump on the road and nothing else, especially because of the heat suppressants. For the most part, he'd always had much bigger things to deal with (crippling anxiety, his old friend), so he wasn't used to what his very primal brain craved.
Which was apparently a nest. Who even came up with these terms, anyway? What the fuck was he? A bird? He decided not to mention his thought process out loud, just to save Nick's sanity.
"Chris, stop taking up the whole bed," huffed Nick, rolling his eyes. "Fucking move."
"I am scenting Matt!" argued Chris, scooting closer to Matt, seemingly out of spite. "What useful things are you doing, anyway?"
Nick clicked his tongue, the sound filled with so much agitation it made Matt chuckle quietly. "Getting Matt stuff for his nest and I brought ice packs, because he's burning up! Did you even notice that?"
Ah, yes, God forbid there would be just one day without the constant bickering. Well, truth be told, it wasn't like Matt minded it that much — over the years, it'd become a bit of a background noise to him, sometimes even falling asleep to it, all while Nick and Chris insisted on proving their useless points. And apart from that, he'd also become to associate it with safety; if there was bickering, it meant that he didn't need to worry about anything at all.
"You're so fucking annoying, oh my god!" continued Chris, propping himself on one elbow, even as his other hand stayed on the side of Matt's neck.
"I am the annoying one? You're the one, who just has to keep talking about literal fucking nonsense!" exclaimed Nick, shaking his head. "Now, move, kid!"
Despite the grumbling, Chris finally moved to make more space on the bed, taking Matt right with him and even helping him rearrange the hoodies, so they stayed in that specific way that only made sense to Matt. "Happy?" the youngest asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Very," replied Nick with a pleased look on his face. Then, his attention shifted to Matt, his expression schooling into something more worried. "I'm going to put the ice packs on your forehead and wrists, okay?"
Matt only nodded, letting Nick maneuver him on his back, despite the pain shooting through his body. His muscles were still feeling far too stiff, and for a moment he wondered if he would have to suffer through this forever.
When the first ice pack was placed on his forehead, Matt hissed with discomfort, glaring at Nick, who only shrugged his shoulders. The ice packs on his wrists weren't as bad, but he still felt like an idiot as he lied there, the cooling sensation seeping into his skin.
"We need to cool you down, sweetheart," said Nick, keeping his voice light. "If your temperature doesn't go down, you're just gonna feel worse."
Matt raised one unimpressed eyebrow. "And how do you know that?"
Nick rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Just because you have decided that by taking heat suppressants none of the Omega stuff concerns you, anymore, it doesn't mean that I didn't do my homework, okay? So, trust me on this, will you?"
And, well, it wasn't like Matt could argue with that. On top of everything, he would trust Nick (and Chris) with his life — his older brother always knew what to do, no matter what situation they found themselves in. So, he only nodded, allowing himself to close his eyes.
"Just try to get some rest," added Nick, cradling his fingers through Matt's hair. On instinct, Matt leaned into the touch, letting out a pleased sound.
Chris hummed, resting his head on Matt's shoulder. "We'll be right here."
Matt sighed, "That's all very nice, but it's very hard to actually rest when I feel like my brain is about to fucking freeze from this stupid ice pack."
"Good news," said Nick, his tone far too smug, and Matt was already preparing for the bullshit that was about to leave his mouth, "there isn't too much to freeze."
Immediately, Chris started to laugh, trying to stifle his giggles in the fabric of Matt's shirt.
"Oh, you think you're so fucking funny," huffed Matt, opening one eye to look at Nick, but even then, his words barely carried any heat.
"No, Chris believes I'm funny, actually," argued Nick. Then, his smug expression morphed into something far too fond. "Seriously, kid, get some rest, yeah? We'll just cool you down a little and then we can just take a nap together. How does that sound?"
Matt only let out a hum in response, but it seemed to satisfy both Nick and Chris.
For a moment, they all simply shared the same space in an unusual silence, but it wasn't like Matt didn't appreciate it. And it also seemed like the ice packs were slowly starting to work, the heat deep inside his body slowly going away and the headache subsiding — though, it still stubbornly stayed right behind his eyes.
Finally, Nick was kind enough to remove the ice packs, taking them back to the kitchen, before returning to the room. He lied right next to Matt, draping one arm over him.
"How do you feel?" asked Nick, brushing the inner side of his wrist against Matt's pulse point. The movements were automatic, done too many times over the years.
"Did the ice packs help?" added Chris, brushing his thumb against Matt's wrist.
Matt nodded, letting his brothers fuss over him. "Guess so."
It was strange, really. For most of his life, he'd always hated that his brothers insisted on watching over him, sometimes even because of the smallest of things. He'd always felt like a burden — far too soft for this world, but mainly for his own good. Today, though, that feeling disappeared, or maybe it just got pushed down by the heat cycle that was still coursing through his body. Today, he just wanted to be around his brothers.
"What do you need, Matty?" asked Chris, smiling ever so softly.
Matt blinked slowly, looking in between Nick and Chris. Then, he spoke up, "Just stay here."
The heat wouldn't get manageable until the next day — if he was lucky, of course — but Matt wasn't sure if he even cared that much, anymore. Especially not now when Nick and Chris were right by his side, insisting on taking care of him through it all. Well, maybe just for one day, Matt could allow himself to be taken care of, especially if it meant staying right where he was meant to be; squished in between his brothers.
For where else was Matt supposed to be, huh?