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Will is in pre-heat.
He’s not supposed to be in pre-heat.
He’s on a work trip with Mike—emails to send, decisions to make, meetings lined up all week. There’s no time for this. No reason for it.
He hadn’t even realized it until he found himself curled up in the hotel room, nesting.
Fuck.
He had written off the dull, gnawing pain in his gut as a stomachache—perhaps a side effect of the sickness he’s been battling the past few days. His work stress had almost acted like a natural suppressant, dulling his awareness of his changing hormones—the sweetness of his scent, the aches in his body, the anxiety of being vulnerable in a strange place.
But now, as he notices the mound of blankets surrounding him, panic starts to set in. He’s not supposed to be nesting. He shouldn’t even be in pre-heat. Hell, he can’t even remember the last half hour—just a hazy blur of rummaging through unfamiliar sheets. Has he already lost control?
His heart quickens. Nothing feels threatening in the room, but everything seems alien and sterile, making Will uneasy. He clutchs a decorative pillow to his chest, despite its scratchy fabric. His eyes scan the space for something familiar, something safe.
And there it is—he’s across the room before he even thinks, on his knees on the hotel carpet, trembling as he unzips Mike’s suitcase with shaky hands. His shins prick with a burning sensation against the rough floor, but he doesn’t care. Mike’s clothes are crumpled and messy, and they call to him—familiar, comforting.
His mind races nervously, embarrassed by how desperately he’s reacting, but he can’t help his pre-heat instincts—that relentless craving for an alpha, for Mike, safe and kind.
His chest aches with need, and suddenly he feels unbearably homesick, wishing he was small enough to curl up inside Mike’s suitcase, making his nest surrounded by all of Mike’s things.
Without hesitation, he gathers some hoodies and shirts, bringing them back to his half-made nest. He collapses into the bed, dizzy, warmth pressing behind his eyes, and only when he notices the damp patch on his shoulder does he realize he’s crying. God, he feels miserable. He knows it’s just hormones, but that doesn’t make it easier. Frantically, he claws at the blankets, burying his face in Mike’s hoodie.
Mike’s scent is soothing. It’s all Will can do to breathe deeply, lungs shuddering with the comfort of the familiar.
Slowly, clarity returns. The realization hits him like cold water—Mike’s scent burning his nose with guilt. We're sharing a hotel room. I’m nesting in our shared space.
Panic tightens his throat. His eyes drift to the clothes carefully arranged around him, Mike’s suitcase open at the foot of the bed. Rummaging through Mike’s belongings and stealing his clothes—without permission—is invasive. Mike doesn’t even know he’s in pre-heat.
He takes a few quick breaths, then five more, clenching and unclenching his fists around the blanket pooled at his waist. He knows Mike will be angry when he returns, but the thought of nesting in this unfamiliar bed, with sheets that smell like soap and chemicals, makes him feel even more insecure. Just the idea of it makes a soft sound escape him as he digs his nails into his palms.
He sinks into his nest, feeling oddly fragile and uncertain. Usually, nesting is grounding, soothing—it’s supposed to be safe. But right now, Will can’t stop fidgeting, overwhelmed with stress.
What kind of omega can’t even create a proper nest?
What if Mike doesn’t like it?
That really isn’t a question he should be asking right now. He definitely shouldn’t be thinking of Mike as his alpha, yet it’s impossible to ignore the scent of Mike all around him—so strong, so familiar—and the crush he’s hidden from his best friend for years weakens him even further. Alone with his stress, vulnerable and slipping through his fingers, he craves nothing more than Mike’s approval.
Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the faint click of the hotel key or the door swinging open. He doesn’t even notice his own name until Mike is ten feet inside, shrugging off his puffer jacket, carrying the scent of cherries and city air.
“Hi,” Will manages, his heart pounding wildly.
“Meetings suck,” Mike groans, sounding exhausted. “I’m so tired, Will. I could sleep for a hundred years.”
“Yeah,” Will responds, voice trembling. He feels more on edge around Mike than ever before, uncertain how to bring up what’s on his mind.
“I wish I could’ve done nothing all day,” Mike continues. “Could’ve stayed here with you.”
Will says nothing, his heart spinning as he watches Mike close his eyes, shoulders dropping from exhaustion, taking a deep breath—inhale, exhale—and then...
Mike’s eyes snap open, immediately locking onto Will. “Why do you smell like that?” he asks sharply.
“Like what?” Will responds, feeling uncomfortable.
“Like you’re scared,” Mike says, eyebrows knitted, his concern thickening his voice. “Will—”
“Oh,” Will interrupts, suddenly aware of how much his own scent has taken over the room. His usual soft lemon aroma is now oddly bitter—full of distress—tinged with something acidic under his tongue as his heartbeat accelerates. “Um—I was just… stressed from traveling?”
“Right,” Mike says slowly, studying the blankets and clothes scattered over the hotel bed. “And that’s why you’re… cozy.”
“Yeah,” Will responds softly, almost a whine.
Honestly, he’s close to begging Mike to come over and fix everything. Every part of him aches—stress tightening his muscles, his vision swimming through flashes of heat, his stomach twisting into knots as he watches Mike survey the room.
He despises how his body feels drawn toward Mike, like a flower tilting toward the sun. It’s unfair that Mike smells this good—sweet cherries and fresh earth—and right now, Will feels more like an omega than ever before.
He whines again, catching Mike’s sharp gaze immediately.
“Will,” Mike says, eyes narrowing as he observes him curled among the blankets, “Are you—Are you nesting?”
Will’s face is flushed with a feverish redness, his cheeks warm and slightly trembling—embarrassment intensifies as Mike observes him, clothes and pillows scattered around like a second skin.
“Are those—” Mike begins, eyes narrowing, “Are those my clothes in your nest?”
Will hesitates, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” he croaks, voice cracking. A fire seems to burn inside him, ribs aching with uncertainty. “I should’ve asked. I know we’re not—I mean, we’re not anything. I just—I needed you.”
Mike’s expression is unreadable, his tone neutral. “Are you in heat?”
Will’s breath catches, his stomach fluttering with anxiety. He can’t tell if Mike’s angry or sympathetic, and he inhales deeply, the breath getting stuck halfway. Mike likely doesn’t want to deal with an omega in heat, much less Will in this state—that scent of vulnerability, desperation radiating from him, is impossible to hide.
“No,” Will manages, feeling faint. “Just pre-heat.”
Mike pauses, hovering nearby. His face shows uncertainty, as if unsure of what to say or do next.
They’ve never really discussed this explicitly. They know everything about each other—favorite breakfasts, how long each showers—but the details of their secondary genders feel too intimate to voice. Will sees Mike looking at him now, unfamiliar with this needy, hormonal, fragile side of him.
“Do you want me to get a second room?” Mike offers softly, and Will’s heart sinks.
It’s clear—Mike doesn’t want him, doesn’t want to be around him. The thought spirals in Will’s mind, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “You’re going to leave?”
“If that’s what you want,” Mike responds, winching. “Don’t you want some space?”
“Please,” Will croaks, bitterly. “Don’t leave me.” He curls further into his nest, heart pounding. “Please stay.”
“Hey, I’m right here,” Mike says gently, hands fluttering nervously. “It’s okay, Will.”
Will feels vulnerable, pathetic even, hiding in his nest and watching Mike with cautious hope. He’s overwhelmed—stressed about work, about his pre-heat—and clingy, desperate for Mike’s presence as if he could fix everything just by being near him. And, remarkably, Mike seems to be letting him. His gaze is tender, almost protective, as if checking to see if Will is okay. Will holds his breath, fighting the urge to lean into instinct—to bare his neck, to let Mike scent him, to drown in that comfort.
“Mike,” he whispers breathlessly.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come closer?” Will asks, voice trembling with anticipation.
Mike inhales softly, his eyes searching. “In your nest?”
“Yes,” Will replies softly, twisting his hands in his hoodie.
“I just want to be sure,” Mike says, standing up and slipping off his shoes as he moves toward the bed. “It’s your nest.”
Will offers a weak smile, shifting to make space—glad for the extra room on the queen-sized bed—and rearranging his nest so Mike can sit beside him.
“Sorry for trying to be thoughtful and responsible,” Mike says with a small laugh, settling carefully at the edge of the mattress without disturbing Will’s carefully placed belongings.
Will’s heart swells, and he whispers without thinking, “You’re a good alpha.”
Mike’s kindness, responsibility, and caring feel like a safe harbor. Will can’t recall feeling more secure with anyone else in his life.
Will doesn’t even realize what he’s said until Mike gives him a strange look, briefly curious before his face shutters off. Will, hazy and in love, can only follow the curve of his hair as it falls over his forehead.
“I’m not going to call you a good omega, if that’s what you were after,” Mike replies, watching him with amusement.
Will doesn’t quite manage to stop the purr that starts in his chest, internally preening at Mike's offhand non-compliment. Mike thinks I’m a good omega, he thinks happily, tingles running down his entire body, face red with a blush that he can’t even begin to hide.
“Oh, you liked that,” Mike grins, slipping his legs under the covers as he turns closer to Will.
“Shut up,” Will replies defensively, flustered. “I’m in pre-heat, you can’t make fun of me.”
“Okay, okay, fine,” Mike giggles lightly.
Will hums in response. He can barely focus with Mike so close to him, the scent of earth and cherry rich in the space between them, his body buzzing with need as he tries to contain himself from latching onto Mike. He closes his eyes, swimming in lemon that he wishes was cherry, and wondering if it was a bad idea to invite Mike into his nest.
“You’re trembling,” Mike notices, the corners of his mouth downturned as he watches Will. “What’s wrong? What do you need?”
“It’s embarrassing,” Will mutters, trying to calm down his scent.
Mike raises an eyebrow. “More embarrassing than raiding my suitcase to make a nest out of my clothes and asking me to lay in your nest with you?”
“Yes,” Will says stubbornly, hiding his face in the pillow.
“It’s just me,” Mike says gently. “I’m not going to judge you for whatever weird omega stuff your brain wants right now.”
Will takes a long breath, inhaling in shaky intervals as he focuses on the familiar, soothing weight of his nest, and Mike.
“I really want you to scent me,” he admits, nervous, a stutter gathering at the back of his throat as he rushes to justify himself. “I’ve just been really stressed, I didn’t think I was going to be in pre-heat for another week, and I just—I just want—”
“Sure,” Mike agrees easily.
“What?” Will gapes at him.
“Well c’mon, with that leadup I thought you were going to ask me to fuck you or something—” Mike replies, raising an eyebrow.
“What—”
“Plus,” he starts awkwardly, looking away from Will for a moment. “I’ve kind of been wanting to do that too.”
“Really?” Will's heart skips, light like a runaway balloon.
“Well yeah,” Mike admits. “I walked into a room that smelled like a distressed omega—like a distressed Will— so naturally I want to… y’know—take care of you. As much as you’ll let me, at least.”
Will makes a soft sound, the noise punched out of his gut without warning. “Please,” he begs, “please.”
“Come here then, idiot,” Mike says, shuffling forward. “I got you.”
“Okay,” Will breathes.
There’s too much trust here for him to be embarrassed as he slips his hoodie to the side, exposing his neck. Mike is intoxicating, his scent sweet and calm as he places a hand on Will's side to steady him, and Will whines when Mike starts rubbing tiny circles against his waist, so oversensitive that even the brush of fabric against his skin is too much.
“Shh, shh,” Mike murmurs, low and hushed as he slips his hand under the edge of Will's hoodie, his palm resting on Will's bare hip. His fingertips graze over Will's waist again, soft and graceless like water, sending ripples of warmth through Will's skin. “Better?”
“Mike,” he replies helplessly, shuddering with the aftershocks.
He doesn’t know if he can survive Mike being so gentle with him, already lost in the intimacy of a simple touch. When they’re this close, it’s hard not to imagine Mike as his alpha, his partner, and Will aches so badly he thinks he might break a rib.
“You okay?” Mike asks, thumbing over Will's hip bone, soft, and Will shivers with the urge to kiss him, his crush overgrown like wildflowers.
“Yeah,” Will manages, fingers buried in the fabric of Mike’s sweatshirt.
He feels ravenous from Mike’s scent saturating the nest around them. He needs it, needs Mike's scent on him, needs to be consumed by it until he can barely smell himself anymore. His hindbrain itching behind his eyes, Will takes a deep breath and he tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck in a silent question.
“Fuck,” Mike mumbles under his breath, hand stilling on Will’s waist. “Yeah, okay.”
Mike cups the back of Will's head gently, guiding him towards his neck, and Will immediately goes boneless. He can smell how much Mike wants this too, his scent so potent it’s dizzying.
He thinks he might pass out when Mike finally scents him, brushing against him with enough tenderness to erode Will's entire bone structure. He can’t do anything but sag limply into Mike’s chest as warmth shocks his nerves like a splash of hot tea.
It feels good, fuck, it feels so good. Will didn’t know how much he needed this until now, tucked away in the safety of Mike's embrace, in a nest made of Mike's clothes. He doesn’t even realize he’s whimpering until Mike quiets him, a hand running from curls at the nape of his neck to the edge of his scent gland.
“You’re okay, I got you,” Mike whispers soothingly, scenting him again. “I got you.”
“Th-thanks,” Will lisps, the words refusing to take shape in his mouth, brain short-circuiting on Mike's open affection.
“You smell so good,” Mike groans, nosing against his collarbones, making Will shudder all over again. He pulls himself closer, a hand anchored to his back as he wraps himself in Mike’s arms.
“You,” he replies insistently, hazy, but Mike knows what he means, taking the compliment as it is. His laugh resounds in Will's chest, as delicate as a butterfly in the morning sun, and Will's heart beats a little heavier with longing.
He’s loved Mike for so long that it almost doesn’t feel real. He’s pictured this hundreds of times; the two of them sequestered in Will's nest, holding each other close in the bed that they share, drunk off their own mix of earthy cherry and lemon. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine matching rings, matching bites, and Mike's hands everywhere, kissing him stupid.
It’s almost unconscious, then, when Will dips his head to the crook of Mike’s neck and leaves a gentle kiss directly on top of Mike’s scent gland.
“Will.” Mike stiffens immediately.
He whines when Mike pulls back, mourning the loss of his warmth. Mike tips his head up, a hand gently holding his chin, and Will lets him, blinking slowly as Mike studies his face. He knows his cheeks are pink, still lingering at the edge of preheat, completely overcome by the feeling of Mike's skin against his lips.
“Was that on purpose?” Mike asks, dark eyes searching him.
Will swallows nervously. “Sort of?”
“Sort of?” Mike demands. “What does that even mean?”
“I wanted to do it,” Will admits shyly. He feels like he could taste colors, lips still tingling from the contact as he tries to shake his mind clear.
“Was it an omega thing, or…?” Mike starts, unsure. His thumb ghosts over Will's lower lip, and Will's mouth goes dry with hope. The air is raw with vulnerability deeper than their designations, and Will's chest tightens with truth.
“No,” he answers, barely daring to breathe. “Just… just a Will thing.”
“Oh.”
“Are you mad?” Will asks anxiously, picking at a loose thread. He can feel the weight of his emotions swirling about his head, starting to crash down on him.
“No,” Mike says, shaking his head. He’s smiling, a grin growing over his face like a brilliant ray of morning sun. “Wait, yes. You nipped my scent gland before we’re even properly kissed, Will, that’s terrible courtship etiquette.”
Courtship etiquette? Will's head spins. “What?”
“God, I’m such an idiot,” Mike says gleefully. “You made a nest out of my clothes! And asked me to scent you!”
Will blushes, hiding his face in the space between Mike’s chest and the pillow. “I don’t understand,” he answers, muffled, his voice wavering.
“Will,” Mike says, suddenly gentle, sickeningly sweet as he smoothes the hair off of Will forehead. “I like you.”
“Mike,” Will replies weakly, eyes misty. He picks his head up to meet Mike's gaze, chest constricting when he sees the stars in his smile. “Mike.”
“I thought you only wanted an alpha,” Mike shares, mouth twisting awkwardly. “And since I’m your best friend, I was just… convenient.”
“I’ve liked you forever,” Will blurts out, cheeks immediately blooming with color. “Before I even knew you were an alpha, I’ve always— I was just afraid of messing things up.”
“Are you still afraid?” Mike asks.
He trails a hand down Will's neck, stopping just shy of his neckline. Will shivers in response. He can sense their scents settling down together, intertwined behind loud movements and quiet words.
“A little,” Will answers softly, playing with the strings of Mike’s hoodie. “But I really want to kiss you.”
“Good,” Mike smiles, “because I really want to kiss you too.”
It’s natural, after that.
Will slips under Mike's arm, fingers bunched in his jacket as they cling to each other. Mike is careful to make sure that none of Will's nest falls onto the floor, careful in the way he kisses Will like he’s losing oxygen, careful when he tugs Will forward and presses his open mouth to Will's scent gland until he’s dizzy with pleasure.
Vulnerable in a new city, in an unfamiliar room, he has Mike. He always has Mike, tender and soft and kind.
They lie together for hours, Will's eyes fluttering as he tucks himself into the circle of Mike's embrace. He closes his eyes, reveling in the rhythm of Mike's heartbeat against his own, the taste of cherry and damp earth lingering under his tongue like a song he’s known his entire life.
Safe in the arms of his favorite person, Will finally lets himself go, sleep draped over his shoulders, warm and full of love.