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"Choose love! Choose love! Enter the rose garden. Let your soul make peace with the horns."
- Rumi -
There are benefits to having an alpha friend.
For one, Louis has a human furnace to warm him up whenever he’s cold. He also has a personal bodyguard to scare away insistent alphas and make sure Louis gets home safely whenever they go out together. And someone to calm him down when he gets too anxious because his omega emotions are all out of whack. Not only that, but Harry offers a certain dynamic to their friend group they just wouldn’t have without him, kind of like the big dumb alpha who isn’t really dumb at all but sometimes he pretends just to make Louis laugh.
Of course Louis would like Harry just the same if he wasn’t alpha, but. Maybe even more so than he does now, because then there wouldn’t be awkward moments between them brought on by their secondary genders. Like the one time Harry accidentally scent-marked Louis because his rut was coming up and he was feeling protective, or when Louis got really possessive a few days ago and snapped at the omega server for flirting a little too obnoxiously with Harry. Harry had only laughed, the bastard.
Still, there are definitely perks to being friends with an alpha. Specifically, during heats.
Not real heats, but soft heats. Heats suppressed by medication that aren’t really heats at all, but just a period of time lasting seven days long when Louis is particularly cranky and sensitive and really needing to cuddle with someone. Most of the time, a regular beta just won’t do.
It’s not that an omega will die without a bit of physical contact during a soft heat, but it’s quite an annoyance. Being single is difficult for omegas and Louis despises that. He doesn’t want to be cornered into a relationship just to relieve some of the nuisances of being a single omega, but sometimes it just seems so tempting to bond with the first alpha that shows interest in him just to get all the inconveniences out of the way.
It wouldn’t be hard for Louis to find a willing alpha, either, and that’s something he tries not to take for granted. He’s always had a lot of alphas interested in him, because they think his scent is special or something, somehow particularly sweet and desirable. Louis doesn’t like that very much at all, couple with the fact that as a male omega he’s quite rare, especially with his body which is curvier than most. Having a sweet scent and a good bum seems to be the key to getting attention but it upsets Louis when he thinks about how superficial those two traits are, and he has to be faced with the fact that alphas only pay so much attention to him because they want to know what it’s like to knot him.
Regardless, Louis’ soft heat is approaching. Right now he’s trying to suppress the urge to build a nest because he isn’t pregnant, god damn it, and what’s the point of a nest if he isn’t pregnant and doesn’t have any pups?
The entire bus ride home from work, he ignores the alpha strangers rudely sniffing the air and staring at him with dark, heavy-lidded eyes. He knows the scent of his heat—the heat he won’t truly experience, thanks to his suppressants—is clinging to him, but that doesn’t mean anyone has the right to sniff him so rudely like that.
All the while he keeps his mind busy by telling himself he isn’t going to start building a nest when he gets home. Instead of building a nest, he’s going to eat dinner, take a shower, and go to sleep for the foreseeable future.
There are benefits to having an alpha friend, but most of those benefits aren’t realized when Louis is too shy to ask Harry to come over and ease some of the annoyances of his soft heat. His face burns with embarrassment just thinking about asking Harry to come over tonight, cuddle him on the couch, and maybe even bring an extra sweater over so Louis can smother himself in alpha-scent, which seems to be the only thing that will appease his inner omega at the given moment.
He sighs when it takes longer than usual to unlock the door, his hands shaking just a little too much. It opens eventually, and he might forget to lock it behind him but that thought slips out of his head almost as soon as it comes, his mind hazy from the effects of his suppressed heat, his body confused by the medication.
The last of the lasagna in the freezer is gone, which really sucks, because it means he has to make dinner, and he is definitely not in the right mindset to make dinner at the current moment. Maybe he should just make a sandwich, or order takeout? Even that seems like too much work. To give himself more time to decide, he heads to the bathroom to take a shower instead.
Living in a shitty apartment with poor heating and bad water pressure really makes for a disappointing shower. He turns the water as hot as it will go and even then it just turns a lukewarm, leaving him with his arms wrapped around himself, shivering. It would be nice to have a hot shower to relieve some of the tension in his muscles, which are sore for god knows what reason, though it’s something that always happens around his heat, suppressed or not. But the water never warms up and he never stops shivering, so he ends it after he washes himself and wraps up in a towel, thinking he should probably invest in one of those fuzzy bathrobes to keep himself warm. That’s a good idea for his birthday gift idea list, now that he thinks about it.
As soon as he steps into the hallway he thinks his apartment smells better than usual, and he breathes in deeply. Yeah, he’s definitely hallucinating. Maybe he should just go to sleep instead of worrying about dinner?
But no, there’s definitely something there. Or, well, some one . He inhales deeply and realizes the scent is familiar and comforting. Like walking into a bakery, that’s what it smells like, and oh, Louis knows that scent.
He must really be hallucinating, but just to be sure, he walks down the hallway and into the living room, greeted with the sight of Harry sitting on his couch.
Literally, what the fuck?
“How’d you get in?”
“Oh, hey Lou,” Harry smiles, his gaze switching from the TV to where Louis is wrapped in a towel, dripping water onto the wood floor. The smile dissipates quickly, turning into a concerned frown, his brows pulling together. “You left the door unlocked. I really wish- You can’t keep forgetting, it’s dangerous. Anyone could just walk right in!”
Clearly this has happened before. It seems like everytime Harry visits he reprimands Louis for not locking the door. “Yeah, a strange alpha could just walk right in, steal my sugar snap peas and watch Law and Order on my TV,” Louis says dryly, wrapping his arms tighter around himself to keep the towel up. Hyper-aware of his bare skin on display, and his utter nakedness beneath the towel, he shifts on his feet and wonders what the alpha a few feet away from him is thinking.
Harry looks down at the half-eaten sugar snap pea in his hand and then back to Louis. “I’m being serious, Lou.”
“Yeah, me too.” That’s a lie, though, he’s definitely joking. “How’d you get past Bueler, by the way?” Bueler is the nosey but fabulous man who works in the lobby of the apartment building. He never lets a stranger upstairs without grilling them first.
“He thinks I’m your boyfriend.”
Louis gapes. This is the first he’s heard of this. It explains how Harry’s gotten up to his apartment before without Louis having to go down to the lobby to save him from Bueler’s interrogation. “And you haven’t corrected him?”
Harry shrugs.
“Whatever,” Louis scoffs.
“Look, seriously though, please don’t forget to lock your door. I’m mean it, Louis.”
“Alright, alright, fine.” He waves it off with a dismissive hand, which upsets Harry but not enough to say something else. “Anyways, why’re you here?”
“Oh, um, I was gonna make you stir fry, but I know sometimes you don’t have an appetite when you’re… yeah… so I decided to ask you first before making it. I have all the ingredients if you do want it, but it’s okay to say no, of course.”
Biting his lip, Louis suppresses the urge to sit himself on Harry’s lap and kiss his cheek or nuzzle into his neck in thanks. That would just be really, really weird, especially considering Louis is practically naked right now. Instead, he ignores the warm blush rising on his cheeks at the knowledge that Harry somehow knows today is the beginning of his soft heat, and he says a quiet, “Thanks, that sounds great. I’m really hungry.”
“Awesome, I’ll get it started right now.”
“‘Kay. Um, yeah. I’m gonna go get dressed.” He doesn’t know why he felt the need to say that out loud, but whatever. Awkwardly, Louis shuffles out of the room, clutching his towel a little tighter to cover his body. God, how embarrassing. At least he was right about Harry’s scent and not hallucinating it, though.
Right now, nothing sounds less appealing than getting dressed in real clothes, so he digs around in his dresser for his softest pair of pajama pants, and finds a comfy sweater too. It’s a bit big on him and he can’t remember if it’s one he stole from Harry months ago, or if it just got stretched out in the wash. No matter. Hopefully Harry won’t recognize it, if it belongs to him.
When he heads to the kitchen he finds Harry stirring vegetables in a frying pan. Louis stands there staring at the broad back of an alpha cooking him dinner in the kitchen, and at least a minute passes before he shakes himself out of his stupor. God, what is wrong with him? He’s around Harry’s shoulder blades all the time, why are they only now seeming so attractive to him?
The obvious answer is that it’s the first day of his soft heat, and yeah, of course he’s going to be thirsting after every alpha he can find, especially one who’s cooking him dinner without Louis even having to ask. Louis sighs, feeling ridiculous, and meets Harry at the stove.
“Hey. You alright?”
“Wha’d’you mean?” The words all slur together in a mumble.
“Just- You’ve been a little spacey, I guess.”
Oh, it has nothing to do with the fact that your delicious alpha scent is infiltrating my entire apartment, so much that I can’t think straight, Louis sasses in his mind. Outwardly, he just hums quietly, wandering around the kitchen for something to snack on while he waits, because his stomach has been grumbling for so long it feels painful now. He ends up by the sugar snap peas Harry was eating earlier, munching on one of them while he clambers up to sit on the countertop right next to the stove.
“For the love of God, please be careful,” Harry warns, shielding Louis’ thigh from the burner, which is admittedly a bit close to the stove.
“I’m fine.”
“You burn yourself all the time,” Harry grumbles, adding more teriyaki sauce to the pan. They both listen as it sizzles. “Always come running to me to make it better.”
“That was one time.”
“Still.” With a gentle touch he pushes Louis’ thigh away so it isn’t as close to the stove anymore. The sensation leaves the ghost of fingertips on the omega’s skin, making his nerves tingle.
Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to swinging his legs back and forth languidly. Louis is fine with cooking, but it’s always a treat to watch someone else do it for him. Especially Harry, who makes the best meals. He wishes he could somehow always persuade Harry to cook for him, instead of just when he’s in a vulnerable position, like right now, during heat.
“You can go sit on the couch if you want, and I’ll bring it in when it’s ready.”
“But I wanna watch you,” Louis whines, not thinking about what he’s saying at all. It’s a weird truth. Yikes.
“You’re so cold, you’re shaking,” Harry points out. Louis realizes he’s right. “Go get comfy under a blanket. It’s almost finished.”
And yeah, okay. Louis has lived his whole life in defiance of alphas because he strongly disagrees with society’s idea that omegas should submit to them. In fact, he often goes out of his way to do the exact opposite of what an alpha tells him to do.
With Harry, it’s different.
Louis slides off the countertop and lets his bare feet hit the cold floor, leaving to go sit on the couch and wait. The blanket smells faintly like Harry, which makes sense, because he’s the one who gave it to Louis as a gift last year. Because Louis is always cold.
Harry brings his plate in and Louis takes it gratefully, not just because he’s hungry and the food smells so good, but also because the plate is pleasantly warm in his hands. Harry sits down next to him, too much space between them, and Louis doesn’t know how to fix that without being too obvious about how much he’s needing, how much he’s wanting .
“No Friday night plans?”
The alpha shrugs in a way that says he had plans but he ditched them to spend his night eating stir fry on Louis’ couch. Louis frowns at him, affronted.
“Just because I have to stay in doesn’t mean you have to, as well.”
Another shrug. “You like having company.”
He’s not wrong. Spending heats alone, even soft heats, is just awful. Heats in general, hard or soft, make him incredibly needy of human contact. He used to force Liam to hang out with him, mooching off his alpha pheromones, but that was before Zayn came into the picture, and also before he met Harry last year. Not that Liam and Zayn are together, at least not officially, but Louis would have to have a death wish to cuddle with Liam when Zayn is around. Not a good idea.
While Harry watches TV, Louis responds to his text messages and scrolls through social media. What a night. When they’re finished eating, Harry offers to do the dishes, but Louis shoves him away, yanking his plate from his hands before he can protest even more. He runs to think sink with Harry chasing behind him, and they end up cleaning up together, even though Harry made the entire meal, and did the shopping too.
“How was work?”
“Annoying. Awful.” Usually Louis feels pretty neutral about his job as a server at the diner a few blocks away, and sometimes he even enjoys it, and Harry knows this, but today was just bad. Customers have a habit of treating servers like shit, especially when said server is an unmated omega approaching heat. He’s still not over the mix of creepy gazes and sleazy comments.
“How come?”
“Gross alphas. Don’t wanna talk about it. And my back has been hurting all day for absolutely no reason.”
“Aw. Want a massage?”
Louis should probably say no to that, even though it’s stupid to ever say no to a massage. But his day was incredibly long and particularly tortuous and the thought of Harry’s big alpha hands rubbing his back is just too tempting. He gives in. “Eh, I guess.”
“You guess,” Harry laughs, “As if that isn’t the most tempting offer you’d had all day.”
“How d’you know that? Had quite a few offers, I’ll have you know. Like I said, gross alphas.”
Harry narrows his eyes at him. “Yeah, well, I’m the one you’re with now, so.”
Louis pauses. Is that a hint of jealousy he’s sensing? Nah, most likely not, since Harry is the tamest alpha he’s ever met. Even if it is jealousy, it’s just a natural response, something he would feel with any omega, not just Louis. Louis laughs a little to break the sudden tension, turning his back to Harry and scooting closer. Big warm hands immediately splay out on his shoulder blades and begin working out the knots of his muscles.
“Feel good?”
“Mmm,” he hums when fingers dig into a particularly sore spot, working out the tension. “Yeah, so good.” Especially because sitting this close to Harry means being encompassed by the scent of a sweet-smelling alpha. Louis would make perfumes out of it if he could. Also, Harry’s hands massaging his back takes his mind off the fact that he really wants to be tearing every article of clothing out of his closet and making a stupid, useless nest right now.
“Good.” He sounds satisfied with himself, maybe a little smug. Whatever. Usually Louis would turn around to smack the smirk right off his face, but he doesn’t want to disrupt the massage.
Louis grabs a throw pillow and pulls it to his chest to cuddle it as Harry continues massaging his back and also watching the TV show. He’s good at multitasking. Louis is too, scrolling through his phone and laughing at the stupid text conversation he has with Liam. Well, he’s good at multitasking at least until he gets too sleepy to keep his eyes open. So he closes them, clicking his phone off.
He must fall asleep, because the next time he opens his eyes, the world is tilted on its axis and he realizes he’s lying his head on Harry’s thighs. Also, it’s dark outside, and the episode of Law and Order is over, replaced by a movie. You’ve Got Mail. There’s a big hand petting his hair so he assumes Harry is still awake.
“Time ‘s it?”
“Time for you to get a watch.”
“Shut up,” Louis groans, turning over to bury his face in Harry’s thighs. He’s wearing joggers, so it’s quite comfortable, actually. He might make Harry stay here all night. God knows he won’t get a decent night’s sleep without him.
“It’s just after nine. You seem exhausted, though. Maybe I should leave? So you can go to bed?”
“What? No. I’m fine.”
Harry laughs, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair again, brushing the strands away from his forehead. He smells so good right now, stronger than usual, and Louis realizes it’s because of how close he is to Harry. His face is almost pressed into his crotch, for god’s sake. Realizing this quite suddenly, the omega stills, wondering how the hell he got into this position. Usually he never lets his mind wander there, but he’s sleepy and exhausted and yeah, quite a bit horny too, because today’s the first day of his heat, and suppressants may keep him from leaking slick and begging random strangers to fuck him but that doesn’t mean the medication takes away the desire. He sighs, giving in, thinking about how close his face is to Harry’s dick, Harry’s knot . Fuck.
Yeah, okay, he should stop thinking about that, before his scent changes and Harry picks up on it. If it hasn’t already.
“Want me to make tea?” His voice sounds slightly strained, but Louis might just be imagining it.
“Mm, maybe later. Just wanna cuddle now.” A bold move but Louis doesn’t care. He snuggles closer to Harry’s thighs, breathing in small soft breaths through his nose, savoring each sensation that washes over him as his body processes the alpha scent it desires so badly.
Harry hums in agreement and goes back to watching the movie, now that the commercial break is over. The hand petting his hair mindlessly wanders, and he ends up rubbing his thumb gently against the knobs of Louis spine. The touch is so soft and comforting, it lulls the omega to sleep for the second time that evening.
The next time he wakes up is nine hours later, in his own bed, alone. The sun isn’t up yet, but it’s close, just below the horizon. The world is lit in a pale silver glow.
Louis unbundles himself from the blankets and looks around the room, finding it depressingly void of his alpha friend. Oh well, last night was nice while it lasted. Now he’s cold, even wrapped up in all these blankets, and maybe a little lonely too. But it’s six in the morning and definitely too early to call someone to come over and cuddle with him.
He really needs a bondmate, probably.
He doesn’t even know how it happens but somehow he ends up going through his closet and pulling out the softest clothes he can find, rearranging them on his bed until everything is perfect, scenting the items all the while. It would be nice to have a mate’s scent mixed in, someone he loves enough to let into such a personal space. Whatever. He’ll have to deal with just the smell of his omega self for now.
It’s easier to fall back asleep surrounded by strategically placed clothes and blankets, feeling warm and safe.
Saturday passes quietly and lonely, mostly boring except for when Harry calls later that night.
“Sleep well last night, after I left?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Good. I hope you didn’t mind me carrying you to bed? It just felt wrong to leave you on the couch.”
“Oh.” Louis hadn’t thought about how he got to bed. “I hadn’t thought about it. Um, thanks.” Usually he’s not this awkward talking to other people. Heat does that to him, makes his brain go all fuzzy, especially at the sound of a deep voice on the other end of the line, his mind chanting an endless stream of alpha, alpha, alpha .
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just hard to concentrate.” He shivers, wrapping the blankets tighter around himself. Maybe staying in bed all day wasn’t a good idea. “And I’m really fucking cold.”
“Cold? Is the heating on? Do you have enough blankets?”
“Yes and yes. It’s just one of those things.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want me to- Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nah, you’re fine. You’ve done enough already.”
“Louis…”
“Aren’t you busy?” Oops, that sounded a little rude.
“No, I have nothing tonight.” His voice sounds stilted, a little concerned. “Can I come over tonight? We could make pizza? Like, homemade.”
By we, Harry means I, and Louis is totally fine with that. Harry makes amazing pizza, with homemade sauce from fresh tomatoes, crust that somehow tastes better than any other crust Louis has ever had before. He sighs. “Only if you make your chocolate-chip cookies too…”
Harry laughs, and agrees.
Two hours later they’re sitting on the kitchen floor, stuffed full from dinner and dessert. The entire apartment smells of cookies and Louis might die from how much he just ate. Harry seems to be in the same boat.
“God, that was a bad idea.”
“Can we take a nap now?”
“Maybe you should just go to bed? It’s kind of late.”
God, not this again. “Fuck off, Harold, it’s only seven o’clock.”
“Shut up. You just look like you could use some sleep. I’m trying to be nice.”
“I slept all day, thank you very much.”
“It really makes you that tired?”
“Suppressants? Yeah, they do. Among other things.”
Harry gives him a pitying look, his eyes sad. It’s almost too much to handle, and Louis has never liked people looking at him in this way, like he’s too fragile and vulnerable to take care of himself.
“Like what?”
“Cold, tired, hungry,” horny, he doesn’t say. The next one slips out against his better judgement: “Touch-starved. All of those great feelings.”
“Touch-starved?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what that means.” Louis knows Harry isn’t stupid, he’s just trying to get Louis to elaborate. Maybe beg Harry to cuddle him or something like that, something that would make him look like a pathetic, helpless omega in the face of his own nature which turns out to be pretty shity sometimes. Louis stays silent, not giving in.
“So it would help if we sat closer together,” Harry says eventually, his voice low and deep and slow. So fucking slow. Coupled with his scent, it’s dizzying. “Like yesterday, when I gave you a back rub and you fell asleep on me.” It’s not a question. He stands up and pulls Louis with him, tugging him out of the kitchen and all the way to the couch in the living room. “Wanna sit on my lap, little omega?”
Little omega. “Fuck off,” Louis repeats from earlier, though Harry doesn’t know how right on the money he is, how badly he wants to clamber onto his lap and never leave. He’ll never know, that’s the thing. Louis is good at keeping secrets, especially embarrassing ones like this. Being called little omega doesn’t help either, because usually terms like that make his blood boil, but there’s something about the way Harry says it that makes it more desirable, less like an insult or a derogatory phrase and more a term of endearment, something that makes him flush with embarrassment instead of with anger.
“No, seriously, c’mere.” Harry tugs gently on his arm and Louis stumbles into him, sitting down on his waiting lap by accident. He huffs, but Harry wraps his arms around him comfortably, reaching for the TV remote. As if this is a totally normal thing to do. As if they hadn’t just spent the year of knowing each other by dancing around the other, always afraid to touch because of what might happen, how their bodies might betray them. Now, it seems, Harry has thrown caution to the wind. Louis decides to follow with unease, because he has no idea what else to do.
“Harry…”
“Just relax. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you. I’ve got you. What does that even mean? Louis lets his limbs fall limp and pliable as Harry adjusts him to sit more comfortably on his lap, situating him so that his head is resting on Harry’s shoulder, dangerously close to his neck. If he inhales, right at this very moment, he’ll get two lungs full of air permeated with alpha scent. To be frank, that might kill him. Actually kill him. Dead on the spot.
“Lou, you’ve got to breathe.”
“I can’t,” he grinds out, voice strained.
“Why not?”
“You stink.” It might be the most untrue lie he’s ever told. Harry smells like heaven and he’s never wanted anything more than to inhale right now, just breathe him in and get it over with, enjoy it, no matter the consequences. He can’t do that, though, because he knows the moment he smells Harry’s alpha scent, he’s going to become extremely turned on, and there’s such little space between them that Harry will be able to tell immediately, from his scent alone.
Knowing it’s an obvious lie, Harry doesn’t listen to him as he cups his hand around the back of Louis’ neck and guides his head down until his nose is brushing the skin just beneath his ear. Harry isn’t letting him pull away and Louis needs to breathe. He can’t hold his breath for long enough and he can’t help but inhale.
Immediately, the heavy scent of Harry, of alpha , floods his mind, and he can’t think, can’t even move.
He feels Harry above him, casually pulling out his phone and scrolling through it, replying to a text or two. As if Louis is the only one affected by this.
He can’t help it; he sinks further into Harry’s hold, the big arm wrapped around him, the hand clasped on the back of his neck in a show of dominance that might not be intentional but still exists, and god damn it is it doing things to Louis. Inhaling deeply now, unashamedly, he lets his friend’s pheromones calm and comfort him, and tries not to think about how blatantly sexual this is. It doesn’t help—he tries not to think about it but he’s not strong enough anyways, and he can feel himself getting hard, can feel the slick beginning to leak out. Can smell it too, the sickly sweetness of his own scent, what it stands for, what it means.
The heat of embarrassment and arousal burns his face a brilliant red, his entire body no longer cold from his soft heat, but now aflame with sexual desire and the humiliation of needing a knot so badly he’s willing to put himself in a position like this, with his friend . “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whimpers into Harry’s neck, humid breath against warm, smooth, soft skin. His voice cracks on the last word. His entire body is aching with want and shame.
Harry sets his phone down and uses his free hand to rub Louis’ back, but Louis can tell he’s shaking a little. “You’re fine, it’s alright. It’s natural to… Yeah. Just relax, for God’s sake, I’m trying to comfort you.”
“I’m sorry-”
The arms wrapped around him squeeze him just a bit tighter and Harry nuzzles his face into Louis’ hair, inhaling. Louis is so stunned, he can’t move at all. His mind is freaking out but the rest of him is quiet. They should not be doing this right now. This isn’t right and if Louis lets this go on for any longer, he’ll trick himself into thinking he can have something that’s entirely impossible, a relationship with Harry, something more than just friends, and he just, he can’t do that, he can’t-
Harry sighs, suddenly lifting Louis off his lap and depositing him on the couch cushion next to him. They stare at each other for a long moment.
Louis with his slick-wet pants, Harry with his shaking hands.
After a long moment, Harry shakes his head at him.
“What?”
“I can literally smell how panicked you are.”
Louis folds his arms over his chest, scowling, suddenly feeling very defensive. “Can you blame me?”
“We’re best friends, Louis.” There’s a hint if thinly veiled exasperation in his voice, tinging it with bitterness.
Best friends? Louis wouldn’t necessarily say he and Harry are best friends… They’re just normal friends, at most, since Louis considers Liam to be his best friend, and maybe Niall. Zayn is close to the title as well. But he and Harry are certainly not best friends, because this entire year of knowing each other has been plagued by this distance between them, a rift too big to cross, a void created by their complementary yet contradictory secondary genders and the fact that they’re both unbonded, unmated.
“I- I just- What?” His head is spinning; he can’t deal with this right now. Can’t deal with Harry looking at him like this, a mix of hurt and concern. What is even going on right now? None of it makes sense.
“We can’t be close without you freaking out on me,” Harry accuses. “And I can tell you don’t trust me, which is just- I mean, I get it , but it’s annoying, alright? It’s frustrating. I’m frustrated. Sorry.”
Louis stares at him with wide eyes, completely unsure of what to do. The fact that there’s an aggravated alpha sitting in front of him is making his inner omega freak out a little more, rising his anxiety levels, making him simultaneously want to run to find shelter and safety, and also want to reach out and comfort him, make him feel better, take away the stress and upset.
Harry begins standing up, pocketing his phone, looking around for anything he might’ve left behind. His reading glasses, on the table. He grabs those too, then looks back to Louis on the couch. “I should probably leave.”
Louis’ mouth drops open. “What? No!” It’s an innate reaction, the words he can’t keep inside. They fly out of his mouth before he can even think about what he’s really saying.
“No?”
“No- I-” he stops short. The next words come out pathetically, with the hint of a whimper seeping into his tone: “Please don’t go.”
He’s never been so ruled by his inner omega before and that frightens him, realizing the judgement part of his brain is being overruled by the more instinctual functions. Heat makes him particularly vulnerable to his inner omega’s desires and it’s frightening to think he might do something he’ll regret when this is over. Louis is still panicking but now for a different reason than before.
Still, Harry’s face immediately softens at the smallness in his voice. The blatant vulnerability, Louis’ inner omega clawing its way out, expressing nothing but neediness. Clinginess.
“Alright.” He lingers by the arm of the couch, and then they’re both unsure what to do. “Do you want me to- Maybe we should- Shower?”
Louis stands on wobbly knees and nods wordlessly, blushing at how Harry made it sound like they’ll shower together, even if that’s not what he meant.
They stare at each other. Louis turns awkwardly and shuffles out of the room, towards the shower, feeling the sticky wetness of his underwear with every step. When he closes the door and locks it behind himself, he feels a brief moment of solace, taking a deep breath. He can still smell Harry in the living room, his alpha scent pervading the entire apartment. It’ll linger for days after he leaves, driving Louis crazy.
God. What the fuck has he gotten himself into?
Things are easier after Louis returns from the shower, now cleaned up. It’s still a bit stilted, and Harry keeps making an apologetic face whenever Louis meets his eyes, but it’s fine.
The unfortunate occurrence is that it seems to be about the time of Louis’ heat where he gets cramps in his lower abdominals, which is just great.
Suppressants are amazing and so helpful, truly a blessing for omegas in the working world who are unable to take time off for a heat lasting seven days, every three months. Without them, society would be a lot different, and omegas would be a lot more oppressed than they are right now, a lot more objectified, like they were in the olden days. It was extreme. So suppressants are good, but they happen to have a lot of unfortunate side effects. One of them being cramps. Not every omega gets them, but Louis is one of the unlucky ones.
He heats a water bottle up in the microwave because he used to have a cat named Geraldine who would sit on his tummy and make him feel better, but it’s been years since she passed. Now, he has to use artificial methods of comforting himself, one of the tricks being a warm water bottle to place on his belly as he sits on the couch and tries not to cry in pain.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, um.” Louis explains it to Harry, whose confusion morphs into pitying understanding.
“Wow, that sucks. I never knew that was a thing.” There are a lot of things alphas never pay attention to; Louis isn’t surprised.
He just shrugs, and waddles into the living room to sit on the couch again, now with his warm water bottle. His hips feel sore too, his entire body aching. It’ll be like this for the rest of his ghost of a heat, as if nature is punishing him for suppressing a natural phenomenon with synthetic medication.
He sits down with his warm water bottle on his lap, and Harry sits next to him, a respectable distance between them.
They sit in silence, watching TV, or at least pretending to watch TV, for a while. Before Louis decides, fuck it. He scooches closer and lifts Harry’s arm to situate himself beneath it.
“I think being near an alpha makes me feel better.” Being near Harry specifically is more like it, but he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to say that out loud yet. Not ready to voice the truth: that yes, he wants to sit close to an alpha, but he only has one alpha in mind. It’s not Liam, nor any of the other alphas in the whole fucking world. God, Louis is so fucked. He bites his lip and tries not to shiver when Harry gives his shoulder a squeeze and then rubs it mindlessly with his fingers.
“Good, I’m glad. I like having you near me. Under my arm.” He starts laughing a little bit, squeezing Louis closer to his side.
He’s now tucked beneath the alpha’s arm, warm and comfortable, safe. Completely protected from the world. He feels the sudden urge to build a nest, right here and now. Instead, he pushes the instinct away and asks why Harry’s laughing. “What?”
“Nothing- nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Whatever.”
Harry kisses the top of his head and Louis blushes and that’s that.
They end up falling asleep together, and then waking up in the middle of the night with cricks in their backs and necks from staying in the unconventional position for too long.
“Christ, I gotta… I should leave…” His voice is sleep-rough and raspy, deeper than usual. Louis would be turned on by it but he’s too tired for his body to react right now, which is a good thing. “Let me get you to bed first, though.”
He doesn’t protest when Harry slips one arm around the underside of his knees and the other around his back, lifting him up from the couch in an effortless manner, as if Louis weighs nothing. He closes his eyes and feels Harry walk down the hall to his bedroom, the gentle sway of each step making it feel like he’s on a boat in the ocean, being lulled by the waves. The sensation is one he doesn’t want to let go of, but then he’s being set down on a soft, mattress, and being wrapped in warm blankets, and it’s not so bad.
Louis is still awake when Harry leans down, inhales his scent, pets his hair, and softly brushes his lips against his forehead in a gentle kiss.
He’s about to ask him to stay, but falls asleep before he can get the words out.
Harry returns for dinner on Sunday, making pasta and his special tomato sauce, along with a salad. They eat at the kitchen table while laughing about random topics of conversation that keep popping up, funny stories that make Louis spit out his beer, or Harry choke on a piece of farfalle pasta.
After dinner, they spend some time on the couch together, enjoying each other’s company, much like they have the past two nights. Louis is shivering today, so Harry wraps him in a blanket and keeps him tucked underneath his arm.
Louis has never experienced such care from another person before, aside from his family, and it makes his heart do weird flips in his chest, thinking about an alpha actually caring about him, enough to come over three days in a row just because of his soft heat.
“I’m probably not gonna have time to stop by tomorrow, because of work.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” However, he can’t help but feel a little sad at thinking about spending his evening alone tomorrow, holed up in his apartment, missing Harry.
“I, um- I have something for you, that might make it easier? Kind of a gift, but not really, I dunno-”
“Ooh, what is it? Where is it?”
He pulls out a well-worn sweater, the yarn soft. “I wore it last night and all day today so it’ll smell like me, hopefully. Like alpha, I mean. Because, you know…” He smiles sheepishly, almost apologetically. “Yeah. I thought it might help. You don’t have to take it if you don’t want.”
Louis grabs it out of his hands before he can rescind the offer. Before he realizes he probably shouldn’t, he pulls the bundled sweater to his face and inhales deeply, sighing in pleasure and relief.
Harry looks relieved as well. “You like it?”
“Yes. Thank you so much.” Louis pulls it away from his face for long enough to wrap his arms around Harry’s upper back and squeeze him in a bone-crushing hug. The alpha seems caught off-guard at first, but slowly he sets his hands on Louis’ waist, rubbing gently, probably not even realizing he’s doing it.
“Good, I’m glad.”
“Thank you for thinking of me. This is really helpful. And nice.”
“I packed up the leftovers for you as well, so you can take them to lunch at work tomorrow? There should be enough for dinner too. So you don’t have to cook tomorrow if you don’t want to.”
Louis presses himself closer, burying his face in Harry’s broad chest. “Thank you.”
“Alright. I should get going.”
“Alright.”
“Louis.”
“Hm?”
“You might have to let me go.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He lets his arms fall from his upper back, staring up at Harry. A single word flashes through his mind, one that makes his heart flutter helplessly in his chest. Alpha .
A grin spreads across Harry’s face, deep enough that his dimples appear, and Louis just about melts at the sight. His mind is spinning.
Alpha, alpha, alpha.
“See you later, then?”
“See you,” Louis echoes.
He eats the leftovers his alpha packed for him, pasta for lunch and dinner.
One of the omegas who also works at the diner notices Louis’ little tupperware of pasta, which is very uncharacteristic of him since he typically eats whatever he can snatch from the kitchen while working. The omega smiles at him, giving him a knowing look, definitely presuming Louis has an alpha.
He kind of does, but not really, Harry is just a friend. That thought makes Louis ache so he pushes it away. His inner omega is especially vulnerable during soft heats, so he supposes it’s alright to allow it to fantasize, allow his mind to wander.
He doesn’t end up wearing the sweater, but holds it in his arms all evening and all through the night too, his nose pressed to the yarn which smells so heavily of sweetness, like a bakery, like alpha, like Harry . It comforts him, dulls the ache in his muscles and joints, and helps him fall asleep.
Tuesday passes the same as well, Harry texting him to check in and see if he’s okay, Louis thanking him for the sweater and the leftovers again.
Just before he’s about to head to bed, a bit earlier than usual, there’s a knock at the door. Immediately his mind thinks the person knocking is a serial killer but then he smells that familiar scent, faint and seeping in through the door, so fucking tempting, and he opens it, unable to contain his smile.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Hey,” he greets, giving Louis a quick hug before brushing past him, inside the apartment. “I made you some food to take to work tomorrow? And I brought- um, I brought you something else, too.”
Louis watches him set multiple tupperwares full of food on the top shelf of the fridge before turning around and handing Louis a small velvet box. A jewelry box. His heart stutters in confusion, anticipation, and an unknown feeling. All of this is so sudden, he has no idea what's going on.
“Harry?”
“Look.” He motions for him to open the box.
Inside, there’s a locket in the shape of a heart, on a thin golden chain.
“What is this?”
“Go ahead, open it.”
He does, with shaking fingers, slipping his nail in the crevice between the two sides and prying it open. He’s rewarded with two small pictures, one on each side, cut out to fit the shape of the small heart. One of his family, and one of his friends. He stares at the pictures for a long time before looking up at Harry who seems to be holding his breath. Louis is at a loss for words and he doesn’t understand why Harry did this for him, not now, not ever.
“Why?” he asks, quietly, because he has to know for sure.
“I know you miss your family a lot,” Harry says, and yeah, that’s true, Louis spent the past two days talking Harry’s ear off about how much he wants to go back home but doesn’t have the finances for a plane ticket right now. “And I also thought it would be nice to have a picture of your friends, then, too? It’s okay if you don’t want it, if you never wear it, that’s fine-”
Louis unclasps it and tries to put it on right in front of Harry to prove a point, but his hands are shaking too badly and he can’t get it on. “Help?”
Harry tenderly takes the chain from his hands and spins him around with a hand pressing against his shoulder to steady him. Then he brushes Louis’ neck with his fingers as he draws the chain around him and Louis closes his eyes, forgetting to breathe, because his neck is so sensitive right there, right where an alpha will someday sink their teeth into his skin and claim him. He shivers, can’t help it, and leans back into Harry, resting against his strong chest.
“Thank you. I love it so much, thank you.”
So much has changed lately. He has no idea what they’re doing, no idea what Harry’s doing. A week ago they were just friends and now they’re in this weird limbo between friends and god knows what else. Maybe Harry is just being a good alpha, taking care of an omega who is particularly vulnerable during his soft heat, but then why would he do something like this? Why would he give him a locket in the shape of a heart, if it didn’t mean something more?
They make a bit of small talk about their days, discussing work, and music they heard on the radio, and whatever else. Not for the first time, Louis feels reluctant for Harry to leave, and wants to ask him to stay.
He doesn’t, when it comes down to it, watching him close the door behind him after saying goodbye, but he wants to.
The meals packed neatly in tupperware continue throughout the week. As do the… other gifts.
Thursday evening, Louis is exhausted from working the dinner shift and he just gets the chance to take a break around 8:45, taking a seat at one of the unused tables to wrap silverware in napkins.
The only reason he looks up is because of the scent in the air, how it almost smells like a bakery instead of the typical diner food. It’s just an undercurrent to the collective scent of the crowded diner, and it wouldn’t be noticeable, except that Louis is so fine-tuned to it.
“What’re you doing here?” he asks when Harry is within earshot.
He slides into the booth across from him, leaning back against the seat. “Visiting you.”
A soft noise of surprise escapes Louis’ lips and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, pressing his palms to his thighs.
“I brought you food as well? From the cafe you like. Pastries.”
“Oh. Thank you. That’s really… Thank you.” Louis doesn’t know what else to say, accepting the paper bag that smells sweet like sugar and dough, resembling Harry’s scent but Louis would rather smell the alpha sitting across from him any day of the week, hands down, no questions asked.
Harry keeps him company as he folds the rest of the silverware in the napkins, helping out and making the job go quicker. Louis wishes he could slow time down because as soon as he finishes the napkins he knows he has to get back to work, and he doesn’t want Harry to leave so soon.
“Are you feeling better today?”
“A little,” he lies, because he doesn’t want to complain. “Just a bit sore, I guess.”
“D’you still have cramps?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
Harry grimaces sympathetically. “Would you be open to trying yoga to maybe make it feel better?”
“Yoga?”
“I did some, um, research last night, and found that there are some yoga poses that are supposed to ease the pain of cramps from soft heats. I could show you some of them, if you’d like? Or, I mean, I could send you the link to the article if you’d rather do it on your own.”
Louis is stunned. He stops folding the napkin in order to stare unabashedly at the incredible alpha sitting across from him.
“What?”
Shaking his head frantically, so as not to have to convey the thoughts running through his head right now (mostly a single word: alpha ), he stutters, “Nothing- nothing.” Then, blurting out, “Do you wanna come over tonight?”
Harry looks elated at the invitation, but manages a casual, “Sure.”
“Alright, well, I have to get back to work,” he awkwardly says.
The alpha stands, still grinning at him. “I’ll see you later, then. Enjoy the pastries.”
When Louis returns to the countertop, hands full of wrapped silverware, he finds his coworkers all staring at him.
“Ohmygod, Louis, your alpha is so handsome! And kind! What did he bring you?”
Everyone else seems curious to see as well, so Louis hands over the bag and watches as they open it. He finds himself too out of it to correct the “your alpha” nonsense.
“There’s a note inside!”
“What?”
“Can we read it?”
“Let me see it first,” Louis snaps, yanking the slip of paper away from his coworkers. Something sweet for the sweetest omega xx -H, it reads, in Harry’s pretty handwriting. Despite how cheesy it is, Louis’ face heats up in a blush, especially when everyone crowds around him, cooing at him after they read it.
“That’s so precious,” one of the omegas gushes, grasping Louis’ hands. “How long have you been together? When are you going to bond?”
“We’re not- we’re not together,” Louis protests weakly.
“Oh! So he’s courting you!”
No, he wants to say, we’re just friends. He’s just being nice. That’s just how Harry is: nice. But even thinking those words in his head feels like a lie. Harry isn’t like this with just anyone. This is a completely new development and for the first time in his life Louis thinks that yeah, maybe Harry is courting him.
Holy fuck.
The rest of his shift passes in a daze, his mind reeling too much to even care about the rude alpha customers who make sexual comments towards him and expect him to play along. The typical annoyances flow right off his back like water poured down his spine and he can’t find it in himself to be aggravated like usual, his brain dealing with more important things. Like the fact that one of his friends is courting him and he didn’t even know it.
God, the note. The pastries. The locket. The sweater. The little tupperwares full of food!
He practically stumbles all the way home, tripping over his feet because he can’t pay attention to reality, not when his mind is spinning with so many possibilities.
As soon as he gets back to his apartment, he jumps into the shower to rid himself from the diner smell that clings to his clothes and his skin, giving him a lingering fragrance of french fries. He washes it all away with the faintly lavender-scented soap he uses only because a few friends have told him it compliments his natural scent.
When he gets out of the shower it’s a race to get dressed because he never told Harry what time he should come over and that means he could arrive at any minute. In the delirium, Louis is hit with the desire to look attractive in some way and he doesn’t know what to wear, not at all, has no idea if he should dress up or wear something comfy and look like a slob like he usually does, because suddenly for the first time since he can remember he truly cares about what he looks like, not just for himself but for someone else. An alpha. Harry.
The indecision is a bad idea because he’s still completely naked when there’s a knock at the door and then the door opening, because Louis forgot to lock it, god damn it. He can hear Harry complaining in the entryway as he takes off his shoes, telling Louis for the millionth time to lock the door. Louis hastily pulls out a random pair of shorts from his dresser and a t-shirt too, yanking them on, not dressed for the weather nor the coldness of his apartment but not being able to do anything about it now. He flings himself out of his bedroom and meets Harry in the hallway, flustered.
“Sorry, I was getting dressed,” he explains, flicking his wet hair out of his eyes.
“You left your door unlocked.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Harry stares at him, heavy gaze, serious. “Louis. You can’t keep doing this. It’s dangerous.”
“I forgot. I’m sorry, okay?” Suddenly he feels self-conscious, defensive. He lives in a perfectly safe neighborhood, and there’s security in the lobby. What is Harry so worried about?
“You always say that, though. You never remember to lock it.”
Louis just shrugs, feeling a little weak and wobbly from having an alpha upset with him. It makes him feel sick when he thinks about it, actually. Knowing Harry is disappointed in him.
“I’m sorry. I really won’t do it again.” He means it this time. Can’t stand the thought of Harry being upset with him.
His face softens, the creases of his worried face smoothing out as he takes in Louis’ sincerity, and he reaches out to comfort the omega. “I’m sorry too. I’m just worried about your safety. Worried about you.”
Louis doesn’t respond, but allows Harry to embrace him in a hug. He buries his face in his chest, the soft fabric of his hoodie, searching for comfort. He doesn’t mean to make the alpha worry.
“Let’s go sit on the floor, so I can show you some of the yoga poses?”
Louis nods, feeling unnecessary tears well up in his eyes. He’s had a long day, running a gamut of emotions, and it’s all hitting him at once. He doesn’t cry, but he gets close, and goes quietly when Harry leads him by the hand over to the comfy rug on the living room floor.
Harry guides him through each yoga pose, reaching out to adjust his positioning more than might be strictly necessary. Louis thinks, not for the first time, that Harry might be searching for an excuse to touch him, a reason to be close to him.
The poses help, surprisingly. The pain is just a dull ache by the time they’re finished and Harry smiles softly at Louis when he tells him this, almost numbing the discomfort completely.
They make dinner together. Well, sort of. Louis helps as much as he can but mostly he just watches Harry, and hands him ingredients when he needs them.
Whenever there’s a lull in the cooking, Harry reaches over and pulls Louis into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and swaying them back and forth, singing songs into his ear. It makes Louis blush each time, his face heating up, and his body reacting to the intimacy of it all but neither of them comment on it.
“Hey, Harry?”
“Yeah?”
He means to ask What’s going on between us? but all that comes out is, “Why don’t you sing more often?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Your voice is really- nice. You could be famous. If you wanted.”
Harry laughs but still accepts the compliment with a quiet thank you , swirling his wine around in his glass and looking down at it, the sea of red.
They go back to cooking.
Later in the evening, they cuddle up on the couch as they’ve been doing the past few nights.
Louis curls up and tucks himself into Harry’s side, drawing his feet onto the couch and sighing happily when Harry places his arms around his shoulders, rubbing his arm comfortingly.
He can’t stop thinking of the reaction of his coworkers earlier today.
If not now, when?
“Harry?”
“Yes, omega?” The way he says it is different from the way Louis usually hears it, the typical pejorative tone, the hint of disgust. The way Harry says the word omega is like a term of endearment, something soft and special, a name for someone he cares about.
“Are you… What are we doing?”
The question is vague but Harry understands what Louis is asking, if the way his hand stills from petting Louis’ hair is any indication.
“Well. It depends on what you want.”
“But- What do you want?”
Harry is quiet.
“Harry?”
“I want to be what you want me to be.” A non-answer. Louis is about to reprimand him, but luckily he adds, “But also… I want to be something to you. Something more than a friend.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Okay.”
“Okay as in you understand or okay as in you want that too?”
Louis has never been good at expressing his desires but right now there’s something that might feel easy about it. They’re not even facing each other which is for the best, because Louis can play with the edge of the blanket they’re sharing and not worry about making eye contact, which is difficult in intimate situations.
“Okay as in I want that too.”
“Like- can you define what you mean by that, because-”
“I want you to be my alpha,” he says quietly. But his inner omega already knows, you’re my alpha it would say.
“Oh.”
Louis laughs, pulling himself up so he can look at Harry’s face. He finds him grinning, looking kind of smug but mostly happy.
“You’ve been courting me,” Louis acuses.
“I have,” Harry agrees, not even trying to deny it.
His answer makes Louis laugh, feeling giddy. Harry shushes him by cupping his face in his hands, making his intentions very clear, and kissing him.
The long-awaited touch is indescribable, Louis finds. He gets lost in it, his hands finding their way to Harry’s shoulders, clinging to him. He melts into the feeling, turning pliant, letting Harry hold up his weight and lead the kiss and be as dominant as he wants because this is their dynamic, this is what they’re meant to do, and everything feels right, for once in his life he feels whole.
Not whole like he was missing some piece of himself but whole like he doesn’t feel alone anymore, even with just a simple kiss.
Immediately upon detaching their lips to come up for air, he asks, “Will you stay over tonight?”
Harry raises his eyebrows, surprised and suspicious. He puts a little more space between their mouths but Louis revolts by kissing his cheek, and then his jaw, boldly.
“Not for- Just staying here. Sleeping.”
“Is that a good idea?” With your heat, he means. Your ghost of a heat.
“Don’t question me.”
“Alright.”
“What is that a yes to?”
“Everything. Whatever you want.” Harry grins at him and kisses him again, hard.
It does something to Louis, the way Harry pries his lips open, licks his tongue in, claims his mouth. He can feel himself getting turned on, can smell his scent becoming thicker in the air, and he wants to let it go on forever and ever because Harry’s touch feels so good, but he knows it’s not a good idea, so he jokingly pushes him away and pulls him up off the couch, down the hall, to his bedroom.
“No funny business.”
“No funny business,” Harry agrees in confirmation, smiling at Louis like he’s just happy to have him, to be with him.
It’s crazy, how Louis was confused and a little bit stressed before, but everything fell into place so easily. He tells Harry this as they’re getting into bed, trying to gauge which position will be best to sleep in. They end up facing each other, Louis with his face tucked into Harry’s broad chest, after having decided it would probably lead to… other activities… if they tried spooning for the night.
Louis can smell Harry’s arousal but it isn’t oppressive, just a constant hum in the background amidst the other comforting emotions radiating from his alpha fragrance. Mostly, he feels safe, protected, cared for. Liked, a whole lot.
“Hey, Louis?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“I have something to tell you.”
“What ‘s it?” Voice laden with sleep.
“I’ve liked you for a while. Like, ever since we first met. Last year. When Liam introduced us.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Could only think about how you were mine, how much I wanted you to be mine.”
Louis sighs happily, his inner omega finally at peace now with an alpha’s arms wrapped around him, keeping him safe, promising him something satisfying and wonderful, the peace of knowing eventually he’ll have love.
“I didn’t mean to keep it from you, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“I forgive you,” Louis mumbles, mostly joking because there’s really nothing to forgive him for, anyways.
In his sleepy haze he feels so comfortable, so warm, so happy.
“Do you feel better? Does your stomach still hurt?”
He shakes his head, snuggling closer. Being with Harry seems to satisfy his soft heat, his inner omega preening at the attention, finally sated. His stomach no longer hurts, and he feels pleasantly warm rather than his usually shivering shakiness, and the general sadness of common distance from others in his life, the lack of physical touch, has finally dissipated.
“I love how comfortable it feels, having you like this,” Louis whispers into his chest. He means it. It feels like fate, like destiny, like something written by the stars. They were meant to find each other.
Harry pulls him closer in agreement, eliminating the space between their bodies.
They fall asleep like that.