Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Robert shifted his weight, the crinkle of the paper laid across the exam table sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet of the doctors office. He should have been out of here by now. I mean, yeah, he had been beaten, tortured, and then thrown around in a mech suit by a bigger, more spidery mech suit, but it wasn't that big a deal. He really couldn't understand why the doctor at the SDN infirmary asked him to wait, leaving him here, for, what? Robert glances at his phone. Forty five minutes? This was a bunch of bullshit. He should just leave. He had a dog to get back to, after all.

He wanted out of here, the sterile, scentless air of the infirmary was getting to him. As Robert began to rise, feeling each blow he had taken, cursing Shroud with every creek of his body, he heard a soft knock at the door. Of course, just when he’s ready to leave, the doctor comes back. “Come in.” he calls, settling back on the exam table.

The doctor comes in, all white coat and clipboard and stethoscope. “Mr Robertson, you had an incredibly difficult day today.” Her tone is sympathetic, and Robert has absolutely no time for it.

“Yeah, well, just hoping to get home, ya know? Now, if we could wrap this up?”

“About that. While your physical injuries are significant, none of them need further treatment at the moment. You should heal up in the next few weeks with rest. To manage the pain I would recommend taking aleve with breakfast and dinner, just to keep a good level in your system. Icing the bruises may also be helpful. If the pain doesn't improve in the first week, come back and see us.”

The speech seems well rehearsed, Robert wonders how many times she's given it. “Great, well, if that’s all-”

“Not quite.” The doctor shifts, Robert looks at her, actually seeing her, and not just her role. Dark skin looking a bit pale, hair frazzled, eyebrows pinched together. She looked stressed. Hopefully it was just the city almost burning down. Yeah, that had to be it. “Unfortunately, your blood work came back with some concerning results.” Not the city burning down. Damn it. “Mr. Robertson, I took the liberty of looking at your medical history, and it is, ah, somewhat incomplete.” No shit, with how much he poured into Mecha Man he hadn't been to a doctor properly in the last, what, seven years? Not counting the emergency room, but that was really just for particularly pressing issues.

“And?” Robert needed her to hurry it along. He was tired. His new couch and his warm dog and at least 12 hours of unconsciousness were calling his name.

“I need to ask you some relatively sensitive questions. Please bear with me and answer as accurately as possible.” She studies the clipboard. “You are an Omega, correct?”

Robert did not like where this was going. “Yes.”

“And how old were you when you presented?”

“Thirteen.”

“How often do you have your heats, and how are they?”

“I don't." Robert leveled a cold stare at the doctor, daring her to say anything about it. Too bad she was looking at her notes, completely missing the ‘this is not something I'm interested in talking about’ glare.

“What do you mean? All omegas have heats. Suppressants stall the effects for a while, of course, but they can only be safely used for two years at a time, with a three month rest period between uses.”

“And if used continuously they can render an omega heat free for…” Robert paused, doing some math in his head. “Seventeen years-” The doctor’s head jerked up, staring at the man in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you”

Robert speaks slowly. “I’ve been on suppressants continuously for the last seventeen years. So far everything seems to be fine. When something happens with that, I’ll deal with it, but until then…” there’s not really much more to say.

He hates the way the doctor looks at him, pity all over her stupid, caring face.“I’m afraid then is now,” The doctor’s voice was infuriatingly gentle. It made Robert want to punch something. “Mr. Robertson, your hormones are at incredibly high levels, they are affecting your blood pressure, making it dangerously high. Continued usage could lead to permanent damage in several internal organs, including your heart and brain. It is incredibly important that you stop using the suppressants immediately.” The doctor kept talking, but Robert didn't hear what she was saying. His ears filled with ringing, and all he could think was no. No no no no no. Not this. Not now. No.

He was jerked back into reality by a gentle hand on his arm. He recoiled, preparing to fight, forcing himself to relax as he remembered where he was. The doctor was looking at him kindly. It made his stomach churn. “Is there anyone you would like us to call for you?”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll, I think I’ll head home now.”

“Before you go, there are a few more things I need to tell you.”

Robert buried his head in his hands. He was so fucking tired. Why did it have to be now? Couldnt he have a day, just one, where something wasn’t fucking his life up? Was that too much to ask? Apparently so. “If you have to say it, say it.”

“With how long you were on suppressants, you may have an intense response once you stop taking them. There is very little medical literature on the topic. From what I can find you will have a hard time controlling your scent. You may also experience mood swings, particularly irritability and sadness. Since you have never had a heat, we won’t know how those have beef affected until one comes. We’ll send you home with some extra strength scent blockers, as well as the number for a mental health crisis hotline. Still, you should take a week off of work and probably stay home, at least until you know what to expect and how to handle it. If you’re still having trouble then, we’ll talk about next steps. I’m so sorry about this honey.”

Robert feels angry, angry at the situation, at his body, at himself, at this nice doctor and her kindness. If he gets any madder he might just explode. Still, Robert clings to the anger, because otherwise, he’ll cry. He hates crying. “Alright. That all?”

“That’s all. There will be additional information on your exit paperwork. If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to give us a call.”

Robert nods, collecting his things and heading home. It’s a relief to be back in the privacy of his shitty apartment. Here, he can fall apart with no one but Beef to see. Robert knows that his dog won't tell if he cries himself to sleep. He loves the pup for many things, but right now, that might make the top of the list.

…

The first few days are hellish. Everything smells strong enough to make his stomach revolt. He can hardly keep water down, and doesn't dare even think about food. He swings between fury and despair, his eyes feel like hard boiled eggs and his head is pounding. He calls Chase and asks him to take beef, thankful that the older man is too excited to have the pup at his for a sleepover, as he calls it, to ask too many questions. That lasts until he gets within 50 feet of Robert’s apartment. Chase bangs on the door, yelling to be heard through the flimsy wood “The fuck is happening in there, you fuck? You’re damn near stinkin’ up the whole block!”

Robert opens the door and Chase flinches back as the smell of sugar and coffee and metal hit him like a tidal wave. “Shut the fuck up and get in. I dont want you yelling about it in the fucking hallway.”

“Kid, the whole fucking bulding knows somethings fuckin gonin on in here.”

Robert drags the older man into his apartment, closing and locking the door. “Yeah, but they don’t need to hear you yelling about it, too.”

The alpha pauses, taking a moment to look at the state of his old charge. “The fuck happened to you? You reek, and ya look like shit.”

“You really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?” Robert’s voice doesn't have the sarcasm in it Chase expects. He sounds tired, defeated.

“Really, the fucks goin on? You can tell me.”

And Robert does, the words come out fast and disorganized, events jumbling together. The years of abusing heat suppressants, the appointment, the miserable day after. How his skin feels itchy and everything smells too strong, he smells too strong and doesn’t know how to stop it, how he can barely drink. How he doesn’t feel in control of his mind, his emotions. At the end of his tirade Robert breathed hard, eyes wild.

Chase rocks back on his heels. “Fuck”

“Yeah, fuck.” The laugh Robert lets out is dry and humorless, but it's something, and Chase feels just a little bit better.

The older man draws Robert into a hug, allowing his scent to grow slightly stronger, trying to exert a calming force. He had done this for him when he was younger, when Robert first presented. It felt good, familiar in a way that made things seem just a little more manageable.“Well that was fuckin stupid. What were you thinkin’, taking suppressants like that?” Chase’s tone is gentle, taking some of the bite out of the words.

“I was thinking that I had to be Mecha Man. You know how it is. The second anyone realizes a hero is an omega it’s all anyone will talk about. Every knothead villain, and a good number of heroes will try to take you down a peg or twenty. It felt like the right thing to do at the time.” It was quiet for a while. Robert was the first to pull away.

“So, whatcha gonna do about it?” Chase asks, heading to the kitchen to inspect the state of the cabinets.

“I mean, the doctor said to take a week, wait it out. I think the idea is some of the backed up hormones need to work their way out of my body. It must be pretty bad cause I’ve been putting on the scent blocker they gave me but it’s not doing shit.”

“I’ll say.”

“Thank you for your input. I can fucking smell myself, you know that right? Anyway, in a week the doctor said things should settle out. If I'm still,” Robert makes a vague gesture, indicating the state of himself “If this is still happening I’m supposed to go back in.”

“Well that fuckin sucks.”

“No shit.”

“Need me to pick you up some groceries after I take this good boy home? I cant let him be subjected to your fuckin miasma.” Robert winces, Chase had clearly noted his incredibly barren cupboards.

“Gee, thanks. Actually yeah, though. I can’t really go to the store smelling like this.”

Robert makes a list of some essentials, and gives it to Chase along with all of the supplies Beef might need before seeing his closest friend off. He still feels like shit, but maybe slightly less shitty shit, if only just a little.

After Chase leaves Robert notices his sweater, glaringly yellow, left on the counter. Robert rolls his eyes, but that doesn’t stop him from raising it to his nose and breathing in. It makes him feel better, if only just a bit, having the smell of family with him.

Chapter Text

Robert was back in the sterile smelling examination room, digesting what the doctor told him before braving the return to work. He had come in this morning to talk over his… situation. The past week had been rough, but at least it was behind him now. His scent had returned to a manageable level, at least for the most part. It wasn’t stinking up his apartment building anymore, which was something. Emotionally, he was more stable as well. Robert only found himself wanting to strangle people the normal amount, and this morning, when he realized that the box of twinkies Chase had dropped off with the rest of his groceries was empty, he hadn’t shed a single tear. The doctor, who he had learned was named Michelle, had seemed encouraged by that.

Robert would say he was ready to get back to dispatching his team if not for one thing. He still didn’t feel like his scent was entirely in check. While it was generally at a normal level, and therefore covered up by the provided scent blockers, throughout the day and seemingly unprompted, it would spike intensely for a minute or two and then return to normal. He also hadn’t quite gotten the hang of keeping his scent at low levels while experiencing intense emotion. Michelle assured him that this was to be expected. Most alphas and omegas learn to control their scents in the year or two after presenting. Robert would just have to learn that skill now. The fact that he was learning at thirty and not fourteen made him want to die of shame, but hey, that wasn’t a new feeling.

As Robert was ushered out of the clinic and into the halls of SDN, just starting to come alive for the morning shift, he felt his stomach turn. There would be no hiding it anymore. He had gotten away with his ruse for so long, he just assumed it would last forever. Omegas were the rarest of the designations, after all, and his overuse of suppressants had masked his smell, so everyone always assumed he must be a beta. It was an assumption he encouraged. At this point, though, there was no way he could continue the charade. With dispatching being the kind of job that it was, and with Z team being, well, Z team, his designation was bound to come out sooner than later.

With a heavy sigh Robert opened the group chat on his phone

Bob Bob: Team meeting in conference room 7 before first shift.

Message sent he closes his phone and returns it to his pocket, pointedly ignoring the incessant vibrating. He was not looking forward to this.

…

Robert feels a twisted kind of deja vu as he approaches the conference room. He can see his team through the glass windows. There are differences from their first meeting. Z team has two more members than before, Phenomaman and Waterboy having joined the group. There is also a rapport of sorts between Robert and the heros. He can feel his already uneasy stomach tie itself into another knot as he thinks about how his news will change that hard won sense of camaraderie and trust, but there's no help for it. He has fifteen minutes before shift starts, and this has to happen now. Robert needs the reveal of his designation to be on his terms. He spares a moment to lament that all but two of his team are alphas, and the two who aren’t don’t have a secondary gender, being a construct and an alien respectively. It would have been nice to have another omega, or even a beta on the team to help keep those idiots in check. There's no help for it, though, and nowhere to go but forward.

Swinging the door open he’s hit by a wall of smell, the musk of seven alphas who are always trying to outdo each other hangs heavy in the air. It’s stronger than he’s ever smelled it before. His nose must be more sensitive now that the majority of the suppressants have worked their way out of his system. Robert fights down a gag and makes his way to the front of the room. He can do this, he is calm, he is in control, he handles these fuckers on a daily basis and nothing has really changed.

Robert squares his shoulders and begins, voice firm and authoritative.“I know you all are probably wondering why I called you here. I’ll cut right to the chase. Due to some recent medical developments I feel the need to clarify something.” He’s started now, no going back. “I would like to impress upon you all that this information should change nothing about our dynamic as a team.”

“Oh shit, this is somethin’ big” Prism has her phone out, starting to record. Robert dies a little inside but carries on.

“I’m an omega.”

The room explodes into noise, everyone talking over each other.

“Oh fuck! You really are a bitch!” he hears in Flambae’s distinctive accent.

“No wonder you like dick doughnuts.” Of course Visi won’t let the doughnut thing go.

“Holdin' out on us lad” that’s Punch Up.

“Wow, babes, where’s the trust?” Malevola hollers.

“Fuck, the whole time?” comes Sonar, still monotone, but loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of the rest of the team’s remarks. Robert gives them a moment. Hopefully they can get it all out of their systems, and then he can go back to pretending like this never happened.

“Alright. That’s enough.” The team, much to his relief, slowly falls into silence. “Now, due to the medical issue I’m experiencing I am having difficulty completely regulating my scent. It should improve in time, but I know.” He keeps his voice firm, “that you can handle this professionally. You all are heroes, and I know you can act like it.” His eyes move from one member of the Z team to the next, willing them to be fucking normal about something for once in their lives.

“Fuck, Mecha bitch making a big fucking deal about nothing. Who would want to fuck your scrawny ass anyway.” Flambae spits.

“I don't know, I’m kinda diggin’ the depressed malnourished waif thing he’s got goin’ on. Plus, have you seen the guy eat a twinkie?” Only Visi would try and make his questionable dietary choices something sexual.

“There could be some promise.” Coupe sounds almost analytical. “Thoough he would need to be better taken care of.”

Robert wanted to leave. The smell in the room is growing stronger, a confusion of pheromones that burn in the back of his nose. He’s just thankful he seems to be managing to keep his own scent in check. If he believed in a God he would thank him for small miracles.

Punch Up looked up at the assassin affectionately “You would know all about takin’ care of people, right love?”

“Naturally.”

“I don’t see why we’re makin’ such a big deal of the white boy.” Prism sniffs the air. “I don’t smell anything particularly good comin’ offa him.”

Robert doesn’t just want to leave the room, he wants to leave the city, the state, the country, hell, maybe even the mortal coil. Instead he raises his voice over the din “Hey, instead of acting like a bunch of pups that just popped their first knot, why dont you go back to being moderately passable people and get the fuck back to work. If you think you can do whatever you want because we took down shroud, you’re wrong. HR can, and will, take down any of us if they see fit.” After fixing them all with a steely glare, he turns towards the door. “Now, I, an adult, am going to go and do my fucking job. I suggest you all do the same.”

Once Robert is clear of the conference room and sure he is out of sight his shoulders sag. That could have gone better. Really, though, what had he been expecting? It was the Z team, full of hot headed ex-villan alphas. None of them were bad people, they just struggled with impulse control and general assholeish behaviour. Like, really really struggled. It could have gone worse, maybe, not that he particularly wanted to imagine how. Right now he was going to take the five minutes before the start of shift to get himself some coffee and a snack.

…

Waterboy watches as the rest of the Z team filter out of the conference room, his head spinning. Robert is an omega. Robert is an omega. The thought is doing laps in his head, disrupting everything else in his mind. It shouldn’t make a difference. Robert is the same person he always has been. Reliable and strong and competent, patient and kind. Herman shouldn't feel any different about him. Robert is pretty much his boss and also Mecha Man and also the coolest person he knows. All of this doesn’t stop his instincts from latching on to the idea of Robert the omega, Robert who he could protect as an alpha, Robert who he could scent and feed and comfort. Robert, the man who had helped Herm so much could also be Robert the omega who Herm could give anything to.

He shakes his head, trying to derail the train of thought that was leading him nowhere good. Robert was his dispatcher, and he had said that this shouldn't change anything about the dynamic of the team. Herm would do anything in his power to help Robert, and if what the dispatcher wanted was for things to stay the same, then he would fight tooth and nail to keep the instincts curling in his chest at bay.

Herman glances at the clock on the wall in the conference room. Three minutes till the shift starts. He should get to the break room. Maybe if calls don't come in too quickly he’ll be able to have a cup of coffee before he gets sent out. His grandma had brought a new cat home earlier this week and the uneasy social order that his feline housemates had established has been thrown into chaos. While it’s nothing too serious and will probably work itself out eventually he had still been woken up three times last night by the menaces chasing each other through his bedroom at speeds that he had previously thought impossible for cat kind. So, yeah, coffee.

The smell hits him just before he gets to the breakroom door. It’s Sonar, the smell of damp stone and fur and something slightly chemical so heavy in the air it burns his nose. Waterboy turns to leave, caffeine not quite being worth putting up with the hybrid’s bullshit so early in the morning. Before he can leave, though, he catches another scent, one he hasn’t smelled before. It’s sweet, like sugar, but there’s a sour, burnt note, a little like anger and a little like fear. He can’t make out the other notes through the hybrid’s scent and the smell of distress.

Herm is moving before he knows what he’s doing. The breakroom door slams open and he’s scanning the room. Sonar is leaning up against the recently repaired vending machine, and there, caged between the glass and his body, is Robert. The dispatcher looks angry, snarling something up at Sonar, but Waterboy can’t hear it over the growl building in his own chest. His long legs carry him across the room in seconds, and he’s slamming into the bat, teeth bared, his own scent, normally undetectable due to his water washing it away, growing stronger. It fills the air, rising to compete with Sonar’s.

“Hey, Wetboy, what's goin’ on?”

“He didn't look like he wanted that- you to do that.” The effect of Herm, standing to his full height, growling and very much in Sonar’s personal space was effective, even if slightly lessened by his stutter.

“Oh, no, it's fine. I was just trying to get a whiff of Boberto there. You know, team bonding and all.” Sonar had his hands up in a placating gesture, his scent starting to fade.

“He said- at the meeting he said he wanted us to act like normal. That wasnt- isnt normal.” He knows he’s crowding the hybrid. Knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’s not acting normal either. The thought is over run by his instincts driving him to stop this other alpha from making Robert displeased. He needed that sour burnt smell to leave the shorter man’s scent.

“Look man, I was just being friendly-” Sonar is cut off by renewed growling from the taller man.

There’s a hand on Waterboy’s wrist, firm and warm. It feels like a cold bucket of water, snapping him back into himself. “Waterboy, stop.” Robert’s voice is steady, firm.

He pulls away from Sonar like the man was on fire. Oh, oh no. he can feel the drops of water making their way down his face, their rate increasing. He had threatened his team mate, had growled at him. He had come to Robert’s defence like some kind of white knight asshole. He knew very well that Robert could take care of himself, didn’t need Herm to fight his battles for him. If he had waited a couple more seconds Sonar would probably be on the floor with a bloody nose at the very least.

“Sonar, you know perfectly fucking well that was not just friendly. If you do that again I’ll skin you and turn your fur into a bed for Beef. Oh, and don’t let me catch you bothering any other omegas, either.” Robert’s glare was cold. “I know where you live, it’s in your file.”

“Damn, boss, I thought Coupe was the assassin.” It was clear Sonar was trying for levity, but the slight shake in his hands gave him away.

“I have a wide variety of skills.” Robert deadpanned. Herman had no doubt that if he wanted to he could take sonar out and leave no evidence behind. “Now, get to work. Shift starts now. Oh, and you’re on my shit list. I’m out of time to get coffee.”

Sonar leaves, almost managing not to scurry out of the room, but not quite, leaving two men alone together. Robert is still holding Waterboy’s wrist. “Sorr- I know you- handled- can handle-”

Robert cuts off the taller man’s stammering. “Look, Waterboy, we need to talk about this later, but I have to get to my desk. I’ll find you during lunch.” He releases his wrist, wiping his hand on his slacks as he leaves the breakroom. Herman can feel the water trying to fight its way up his throat. He swallows it down, just barely. That did not go well.

Chapter Text

Waterboy fights the whine that’s building in the back of his throat. He can’t stop replaying the confrontation with Sonar from this morning. Why had he done that? I mean, yeah, obviously what the hybrid had been doing was fucked up. You couldn’t just get in people’s space like that, regardless of gender or designation, but especially if the person was an omega.

His grandma had always been clear about how he should step in if he ever saw an alpha bothering an omega. He knows that in her day more alphas threw their weight around. It was how his grandparents met, his grandpa rescuing her from an alpha who wouldn’t leave her alone. Still, Robert wasn’t just anyone, not just an omega, he was a hero. Waterboy had first hand knowledge of how well Robert could fight and hold his own. He hadn’t wanted to be treated any differently than before, and what had Herm done? He had treated Robert differently.

Herm sinks further into the bucket in the janitor’s closet. He doesn't want to be in the break room where might see sonar, and would definitely see some of the other members of the team, waiting to be sent out on calls. This is better. It also lets him mitigate the larger than average amount of water coming off of him. He has to admit it. He is nervous. He knows he messed up this morning, knows he was acting like a knot head, letting his instincts get the better of him. There’s no excuse for it.

Burying his face in his hands, Herm recalls what Robert had said before going off to his desk. He needed to talk to Waterboy later, he'd find him during lunch. The speed at which water drips off of Herm picks up. He would need to empty the bucket soon. What he really needs is to calm down. He had already done what he had done, there was no going back. He wishes it were already over with, but he knows he needs to be patient, needs to act normal and go on his calls and not fuck up. Maybe if he can do that it’ll make Robert’s day just a little less shitty.

Taking a deep breath, holding, letting it out, Waterboy breathes, trying to get his powers a bit more under control. It works eventually, the flow back to a more normal rate.

His earpiece crackles to life. “Waterboy, there's a barbecue on fire, can you go over and sort it out?”

“Ye- on i- sure” Herm rises from the bucket ready to make his way to the call.

“Oh shit, I almost forgot to tell you guys. If wetwipe boy gets mad the stutter gets way less bad. It’s fucking hilarious.” Visi’s voice is a little strained, like she’s trying not to laugh.

“You want me to believe that fucking waterbitch has a spine somewhere in there?”

“No, I’m so fucking serious. I saw him in the breakroom this morning, like, right before shift.”

“Oh damn, girl, c’mon, spill. What made him snap?” Of course, the second there’s a whiff of gossip, Prism is on it.

“It was pretty fucking funny, actually. Sonar was trying to get a little friendly with Robbie, trying to get acquainted with his scent and all. Honestly I was waiting for our little omega to rip Batboner’s throat out. Woulda made a good show.”

“Sonar” It’s clear Malevola is trying to sound disappointed, but mostly she sounds tired.

“What? It's good for team synergy if I’m familiar with everyone. I was trying to do the team a service. Completely above board.” There was a chorus of disbelieving voices across the comms. “You all have so little faith in me. It hurts, you know?”

“Get back to the story, lass, what happened next?”

“So, Sonar’s got Robbie up against the vending machine, Bobert looks ready to commit murder and suddenly Wetboy slams through the door and gets right in Sonar’s face. Fangs bared and everything. Like, the stutter wasn’t totally gone, but he only stuttered, like, twice. It was kinda hot, actually.”

“I’m not going to acknowledge that you just called Wetfartboy hot. It’s going to give me nightmares.” Flambae makes a sound that conveys a full body shudder.

“It is a common trope in romance novels for a typically mild mannered character to be willing to commit violence for their romantic interest.”

Waterboy spat water into someone’s hydrangeas. He wanted to die.

“I don't want to think about Waterbitch and romance at the same time. Its fucking gross. At least he finally descovered his knot, maybe now he won’t be such a fucking pushover in the field.”

“Okay, team, for probably the thirtieth time, it is not work appropriate to discuss team mate’s genitals over the comms. Flambae, since you have so much time to think about knots, you clearly need something to keep you busy. There’s an issue with an overflowing septic tank on main street. Go deal with it.” Flambae’s curses are cut off abruptly. Robert probably muted him. “Does anyone else have anything to say? I’m sure I can find things for everyone to do. I’m not sure they’ll be pleasant, though.”

The line falls silent. No one wants to test the dispatcher. They are well acquainted with his mean streak, and though no one will admit it, they don’t want to push the omega too far.

…

Sliding the headset off and leaning back in his chair, Robert runs a hand over his face. Fist shift had been long. Calls had come in quickly enough that he hadn’t had a chance to get his cup of coffee, and a headache was growing behind his eyes. Too bad he had other things to do. Maybe his talk with Waterboy would wrap up quickly enough that he could grab one before second shift. He could only hope.

He finds the lanky man standing outside the breakroom holding a steaming cup of coffee carefully away from himself. “Waterboy, come with me.”

The alpha jumps a bit at the sound of Robert’s voice, liquid almost sloshing over the rim of the SDN mug he’s holding. Robert sets off down the hall at a good clip, Waterboy trailing behind at a slightly slower pace, eyes fixed on the mug in his hands, trying not to spill.

The door of the janitor's closet is closed and locked when Robert reaches it. He looks over his shoulder, “Waterboy, can you unlock this for me?”

“Ye- of cour- sure thing!” He switches the mug to one hand, his other hand pulls a lanyard with a couple of keys and his SDN badge from inside his suit. He fumbles one handed for a moment before getting the key into the lock. He holds the door, gesturing for Robert to head inside, then following the omega.

Robert switches the lights on. The janitor’s closet is much the same as he remembered it. He flips a bucket over and takes a seat, gesturing for Waterboy to do the same. He watches as the alpha folds his long limbs in on themselves, settling into a bucket. To catch the water? Yeah, that's probably it. The kid looks more damp than usual.

“Sir- boss- Robert, I ma- this is- coffee for it’s- you.” One long arm is extended towards him, offering the steaming cup. Waterboy won’t meet his eyes. Robert’s nose catches a faint scent, similar to the one that flooded the breakroom earlier that morning, but just a bit different. Softer. It’s a clean, calm smell. Now that it’s just them he can pick out the notes. Waterboy smells like cold rain and bergamot, with something mineral threading through it. That smell, and the warm cup of coffee held in the alpha’s hand make a part of Robert he is unfamiliar with stir. He clamps down on the feeling hard, but in spite of himself he still reaches out for the mug.

“Thank you waterboy. I appreciate it.”

“Ye- Ofcourse” Herman is fiddling with his gloves, still not meeting Robert’s eyes.

Robert takes a sip of the coffee, letting the blessed caffeine flow into his body. He’s surprised to notice that it's made to his tastes, strong and sweet, no milk. How did Waterboy know how he takes his coffee?

“Look, kid, we need to talk about this morning.”

“I- I know- I mess- screwed up. I- sorry- I didnt- think. I just- Sonar- he was- and I- well, my grandma she says- if people look unhappy- and I didnt think you- but obviously you- handle yourself- you're Mecha man- strong. You're badass- capable- still not- I mean. I've seen- when you fight- the fingers. You said- not different- same. I shouldn't- you didn't need- I wasn't thinking- wanted- help- didn't need-” Robert watches as Herm tries to wrangle his words into something coherent. Eventually he pieces together a message from the scramble.

“Look, Waterboy, I’m not upset with you.” Blue eyes snap to his face. The lanky alpha looks so surprised it’s comical. Robert fights down the urge to chuckle. “You’re a good person, so of course you wanted to help me. I’m sure you would have done the same for anyone else. That being said, you came in a little hot. It's usually best to start with talking instead of growling”

Herm is nodding so fast droplets of water fly off the ends of his hair. “Ofc- ofcourse Robert- sir. Wont- I won’t do- again- that again.”

“Alright. Well, that’s that then.” Robert nods decisively, moving to get up and then stopping as he notices that Herman isn’t following.

“I st- I feel bad- still. I w- need to apologize." Herman is making aggressive eye contact with Robert’s shoes.

Robert settles back into his seat. “Alright, I'll bite, what do you need to apologize for, Waterboy?”

“You said- wanted us to treat you the sa- not any different from- from before. I dind’t did- do that. My- let my- you know. I ap- sorry.”

“Thats true. I’d like to avoid more interactions like the one this morning in the future. But I can’t really blame you. Sonar was behaving badly. I’d like to think that anyone who saw something like that would want to step in. Thank you for realizing that what you did was wrong. I accept your apology.”

Waterboy visibly relaxes, then looks away, “You- you woulda- could have handled him- Sonar, I mean.”

Robert laughs“Yeah, probably. Maybe woulda done him some good. Sometimes people just need a good fist to the face, snout, whatever. But honestly, Waterboy, it was nice of you to want to help. Not that I need you to repeat the experience. Still, it was nice.” Robert recalls how the alpha had looked, standing straight, lips peeled back, fangs exposed, putting himself between Sonar and Robert. He had been trying to help him. Robert wasn't used to being helped. A warm sensation sparks in his chest, and his scent spikes. Robert desperately tries to push it down, to stop the smell of sugar and coffee from flooding the room. It doesn’t work.

Robert flushes as he sees Waterboy’s nostrils flare. “Sorry, I’m, I haven't gotten used to, ah, controlling it. Maybe you could leave me here? Give me a moment to get myself together?”

“Yeah- yeah I’ll see you- see ya later.” Waterboy unfolds himself from his bucket, looking even taller from Robert’s seated position.

“See you later, kid.”

…

The rest of the day goes normally. Well, normal for the Z team, anyways. There are a few jokes at Robert's expense, and about Waterboy’s actions this morning, but all it takes to quiet them down is a sharp retort from the dispatcher. No one wants to figure out what awful task Robert would find for the next person who pushed him too far. Flambae is sulkily silent after coming to second shift late. Prism said he was wrapping up in the showers, earning shudders from the rest of the team.

Waterboy handles himself pretty well during second shift, managing to stay more or less focused. It’s harder than normal. The memory of Robert’s scent filling the supply closet pushing to the forefront of his mind every chance it got. He had smelled so good, so sweet. Each time Herm recalls it his mouth waters. For once the moisture can't be blamed on his powers. Robert had been so nice, too. He had taken the coffee, had thanked him for it. He hadn’t been mad about Herm stepping in, even saying it was what he hoped others would do. Robert had said that Herm helping him was nice. He can recall Robert’s face after he said that, cheeks flushed, eyes averted, slightly embarrassed as that smell, coffee and sugar and just a hint of metal flooded the room. Herm bites back a groan at the thought.

Maybe it would be fine if he did more things to make Robert happy. He wouldn’t repeat the breakroom fiasco if he could help it. Robert had said he didn't want that. But maybe more things like the coffee. If he could do enough little things to help Robert, make his life easier, then maybe he would let Herm smell that smell again. Maybe he would smile up at him, thank him. The thought makes the alpha’s heart pound.

A disgruntled mumble comes from his right. He shakes his head, coming back into the moment. He’s on the bus, and he’s dripping more than normal. The guy on his right is glaring at him, trying to shuffle out of the puddle forming under his feet. “My b- sorry.” His apology doesn't seem to do much. He’ll be home soon. No thinking about Robert until then, if he can help it.

Chapter Text

Herman hisses as he stubs his toe on the leg of the kitchen table, the soup he’s carrying sloshing out of the bowl. “Sorry, I’ll get that.” He heads into the kitchen for a dish rag to mop up the spill. “You should- can get started while I tidy- clean this up.” He calls over his shoulder. When he returns to the table he smiles at the old woman sitting there.

She smiles back at him “I’m happy to wait, dear. The food tastes better when it’s shared.” It’s something Herm expects to hear. Once he’s finished cleaning and returned to his seat they dig in. It’s nothing particularly special, but he feels good about the way that the soup came out. Herm would be willing to say that he’s an alright cook. He’s been cooking for him and his grandma since her stroke three years ago, and he’s got a decent repertoire of dishes he can make well. He wonders if Robert would like the soup, then shakes his head, trying to dislodge the thought.

“What’s on your mind, Herm?” He looks up at his grandma.

“It’s nothing.” He can feel himself blushing. His grandma isn’t fooled. He can see it on her face.

“And does this ‘nothing’ have a name?” Herm tries to find anywhere else to look, eyes roving the familiar kitchen, sliding from one familiar sight to the next. He knows she’ll wait him out, she always does. He relents.

“It’s really nothing, there’s just- it’s someone at work. It won’t be- go anywhere.”

“And how would you know that, hm? Has this nobody, whoever they are, told you that they’re not interested?”

“No- not exactly.” He fidgets with his spoon, flipping it over in his fingers. “It’s, he’s my- kinda my boss. And he- there were some- he mentioned some medical things. Turns out he’s an omega.” His grandmother raises an eyebrow and he hurries to continue. “Not that there's- I know there’s nothing wrong with that. I just- he said he wanted everyone to act nor- like always, but-” He buries his face in his hands, dripping into his bowl of soup.

The old woman smiles warmly at her grandson. “Let me guess, everyone else is making a big deal of it?” Herm gives a soggy nod. “Tell me what happened, and we’ll work it out together. We always do.”

He takes a shuddery breath before sitting up and returning to his dinner. As the two of them eat, Herman goes over the events of the day. The meeting, most of the team making rude comments, how Robert had shut them all down. How he had gone to the breakroom and found Sonar pinning Robert against the vending machine, his loss of composure and subsequent altercation with his co-worker. His talk with Robert in the janitor’s closet. He does his best to be detailed enough for the information to be useful without getting too bogged down in minutia. The one thing he deliberately chooses to omit is how Robert smells to him. It would be too embarrassing to tell his grandma about something like that.

Just the thought of the omega’s smell is enough to have Herman's head spinning. It’s almost like he can taste the sugar and coffee, even now. It’s a scent that urges him to leave all rational thought behind and do anything and everything in his power to get closer. It makes him nervous, to say the least.

He has fallen silent, his grandma watches as the gears turn in his head. When she pushes her empty bowl away he looks up at her. Her expression is soft and caring, and her scent, floral and dusty with age is filling the room in a comforting way, like she used to do when he had had a particularly bad day at school. It feels steadying. He loves his grandma.

“Well, you did have quite the day, didn’t you?” She sits back in her chair, clasping her hands in front of her. “Now, there are two main issues I think we have to solve. The first is your co-workers. Why they would put that many alphas on one team is a mystery to me. The amount of hormones would drive anyone batty. All of them are probably so busy trying to be dominant they don’t take the time to think before they act. Still, they cannot be allowed to continue to treat omegas like that, its knotheaded behaviour is ever I saw it.” Herm’s eyes widened at her language. It was rare that his grandma swore, but he knew how strongly she felt about equality between the designations.

“Robert seems to- he would have had it handled if I hadn't- didn't butt in.”

She nods decisively. “Well, that’s what should happen then. Nothing better for an alpha who gets out of line than for an omega to put them in their place. Not that he should be made to do it alone, but you should follow his lead, Herm. Support him in whatever choices he makes in handling this.” Herm nods. It was what he had been thinking, but to hear it from someone else made him feel more settled in his decision.

“Now, for problem number two, your crush.” Her eyes have a mischievous twinkle that makes Herm feel like hiding his face in his hands again.

“It’s not- isn’t a crush.”

“Whatever you want to call it dear. You still need to decide if this is something you want to pursue. It doesn’t seem like he dislikes you, and he did say he appreciated that you stood up for him, even if he didn’t need the help. If you’re interested it could be worth trying to court him.”

“I couldn’t cour- what if he doesn’t want- would be pre-presumptuous!”

She laughs fondly, reaching across the table to put a steadying hand on Herm’s “You remind me so much of your grandfather, sometimes. That man was so considerate it almost crippled him. I just about had to hunt him down before he got the message and courted me. In this case, though, I think you’ll have to be the one to make the first move. Robert is more or less your boss, and from what you’ve told me he seems to be a professional sort of person. A good quality, but it means that it would be inappropriate for him to make any romantic advances towards you.”

“What did he do- Grandpa- when he courted you?” Herm watches as her eyes grow misty and far away, reaching into the past.

“Oh, well at first it was just small things. Bringing me a drink, or a meal. He would keep track of the things I liked and bring me those. We would spend time together, he would plan dates, but more often we would just talk, get to know one another. Sometimes he would pick up a trinket if it made him think of me. ” Her hand goes to the chain around her neck, to the flower pendant he knows his grandfather got for her when they were first together. “Oh but look at me just going on. I’m sure you don't need to hear a story I’ve told you a hundred times again. Now, why don’t you help this old fossil up to bed?”

“You’re not that old, grandma.” He smiles, rising from his seat.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you!” She smiles back at him fondly as he guides her up the stairs.

Once she’s in bed with her water and the TV remote Herm makes his way down to the kitchen and pulls down his grandma’s recipe box. He rifles through the cards, looking for one that suits his purposes. While he looks he thinks of Robert accepting the mug of coffee from him this afternoon, the way it made something inside of him feel warm and content. He wanted to feel that again.

If he was being honest with himself he had always liked Robert, admired him, wanted to spend more time with him. He knew the moment the other man had helped him with his tie in the SDN lobby. He had just been able to distance himself from the feeling. Now, with pheromones at play, his instincts wouldn’t let him be distant any more, so he would do this right. He just hoped that Robert would be willing to give him a chance.

He stops leafing through the cards. This should work, breakfast muffins. They look good. Savory, well balanced, and the ingredients were simple enough that he should have them on hand. He cleans up the kitchen, placing the card on the counter for tomorrow morning, and heads up to bed. He sets his alarm an hour earlier than normal and tries to will himself to sleep through the anxiety and excitement curling in his chest.

…

The smell of bacon and cheese and butter fills the house. Herman is crouched in front of the oven watching the muffins rise as predawn light starts to filter in through the windows. He had slept fitfully, thoughts of how best to give Robert his gift plaguing him. After he had gone through several iterations of his plan he had settled on getting to work a bit early and leaving the muffins on his desk with a note. It was simple and non aggressive, he would just walk away and let the omega decide if he wanted to accept the gift or not on his own time.

He regrets that his plan will make it almost impossible to watch Robert eat the muffin if he does decide to accept it. Would he like the flavor, or does he prefer sweets? What kind of face would he make when he bit into it? An image of Robert, eyes closed in pleasure surges to the forefront of Herm’s mind and he bites back a groan. He can’t be thinking like this, not yet. Robert hasn’t accepted his interest yet, and thinking about him that way before he has feels wrong. Disrespectful.

The timer beeps and he tests the muffins with a toothpick. Done. He takes them from their tins and places them in a cooling rack in the microwave. He used to cool baked goods on the counter until one of his grandma’s numerous cats developed a taste for bread. Now, the microwave was one of the only safe places in the kitchen. Without a task he finds his thoughts returning to Robert.

He looks around the kitchen trying to find something other than the omega to think about. A glance at the microwave clock tells him it’s time to get his grandma up and ready for the day. He walks to her room and rouses her. They move through their morning routine in companionable silence, like every other day, until they enter the kitchen. The smell of baking hangs heavy in the air.

“So, you decided to go for it, dear?” her eyes sparkle mischievously from behind her glasses. Herm looks away, flushing. “Well, it smells wonderful. He’s a lucky omega, to have you cooking for him. Now, have they been taste tested yet?”

He grins down at her. “You only- just want a muffin.”

“Guilty, now, hand it over.” Her answering grin makes some of the anxiety leave his lanky frame.

The muffin gets his grandma’s seal of approval. He has to agree that they turned out well. Tender and packed with bacon and cheddar, but not so much that their structural integrity was compromised. He packs them up carefully, using tongs to put them into a container to avoid wetting them.

Muffins in hand, work clothes on, he plants a kiss on his grandma’s forehead.

“Have a good day, Herm. You’ll do great.” Her words follow him out the door. They make him feel a little less like shaking out of his own skin. Just a little. He can do this.

…

The bullpen is quiet as he walks to Robert’s desk, his footprints visibly darkening the carpet. He’s dripping worse than he usually does and nothing helps. He’s tried breathing and meditating and saying affirmations but nothing slows the pounding of his heart or the steady flow of water from his pores. He had tried for long enough that he was cutting it close on time. He needed to do this before the rest of the team got here, or they would see him and give Robert no end of grief about it.

He places the container to the right of the keyboard, fiddling with it until it’s positioned to his liking. He tucks the note under the container. It’s smudged, significantly less legible than he would like, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He can hear Prism in the lobby talking animatedly with someone, probably Flambae.

He hurries away from the desk, unsure where he’s heading. His feet lead him back to the janitor’s closet and he hurries inside. Once the door is closed he leans back against it, sliding to the floor and resting his head against his shaking knees. He did it. He gave Robert a gift. He was courting him. He hoped the omega would eat the food, that he would accept it, accept Herm.

He had thought he was anxious before he put the muffins on the desk, but he wasn’t, not compared to this. It was awful, the waiting, the uncertainty. It almost feels like Robert is holding his wet and beating heart in his calloused hands, and Herm can’t tell if he’ll protect it or crush it into a meaty pulp. He can’t find it in himself to regret his decision, though.
…

Robert comes into work moments before first shift starts. He hadn’t slept well. His couch had felt more uncomfortable than it ever had before and he had spent most of the night moving the cushions around. He had finally managed to fall asleep sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and had slept through his alarm. The rush to work had left him unkempt, tired, and not a little bit sweaty from running while holding his, admittedly, full figured chihuahua.

He makes it to his desk just in time, sliding into his chair and booting up his computer in a single hurried motion. His hands move on autopilot to the keyboard, but stop when his wrist bumps something. His eyes flick down. It’s a container, the sides slightly fogged with steam, a bit of paper peeking out from under one corner.

What? His groggy brain struggles to process the situation. He reaches for the note. For a second he thinks he might be more tired than he realizes, the words refusing to resolve into legibility no matter how hard he squints, then he notices the slight dampness on the paper. It must be from Waterboy, odd. Maybe he left it as a thank you for being understanding about his outburst yesterday.

He reaches for the container and cracks the lid open. The smell that wafts through the air makes his stomach growl, bacon and cheese and a subtle sweetness from the muffin itself. He hadn’t realized he was so hungry. He’s biting into the baked good before he consciously decides to. Flavour explodes through his mouth. It’s the best fucking thing he’s eaten in ages.

He slides on his headset, still chewing. “Good morning team, let’s have a good first shift.”

“Ugh, the fuck is with the mouth noises Bobert? Sounds fucking gross.” Flambae chimes in, happy to bitch about anything.

“I woke up late, didn’t have time to eat before.”

“Better be fucking worth it, subjecting us to that.” Prism is always ready to jump in when her friend finds something to complain about.

“‘S a muffin. It’s fucking great.”

Waterboy’s icon lights up briefly as short noise makes its way across the coms. Huh, weird.

Chapter Text

Robert has plenty of time to think, tossing and turning on his lumpy sofa in his shitty apartment. He’s been over this particular problem a dozen times, and he still can’t make heads or tails of it. He picks up one of the cushions and moves it to the other side of the couch. Maybe that will help. It doesn’t. Not with getting comfortable, and not with the other thing, the one that he struggles to admit to himself, even now, alone at three in the morning.

There are facts he can go over:

Fact one, Waterboy has brought him something to eat every morning for the last week. Each day when he gets to his desk there’s a container and a soaked scrap of paper that must have once been a note, rendered illegible by water.

Fact two, sometimes Robert catches himself sniffing the notes that are left with the food, or lingering in the hallway outside of the janitor’s closet, nose to the air. He refuses to speculate about what he might be sniffing for.

Fact three, the lanky alpha had been acting strangely around Robert. His stammer has gotten worse again, and he’s making less eye contact. It wasn’t as if Waterboy was avoiding him, though. If anything he was around a little bit more, not oppressive, just in the vicinity. If Robert were a more honest man he would say that the alpha’s presence felt nice.

Fact four, any time he mentioned anything he might like over the comms, the lanky alpha seemed to be at his side the next moment he could with the thing in hand. He hadn’t gotten his own coffee in days.

Fact five, sometimes when he would find breakfast waiting at his desk, or when a damp hand would silently place a mug of coffee beside him, always exactly how he liked it, and then slip away without a word, Robert would feel that same strange warmth in his chest. Just like that time in the closet, the feeling was always accompanied by a spike in his scent.

He reshuffles the pillows on his couch for the millionth time. Beef gets up and moves to his own bed, shooting the man a disgusted look. Robert needs to do something to relax or he’ll never get to sleep. He wiggles further down on the couch. Maybe if he lets off a little steam he’ll be tired enough to finally get some rest.

With a sigh he slides his hand to the waistband of his boxers. Not giving himself time to second guess his actions he grips himself, stroking his cock to hardness. The feeling of his calloused palm along his length makes him shudder. He hasn’t done this since he came off suppressants, and whether he’s pent up or the medicine was making him less sensitive, the result is the sam. Each movement of his hand makes his breath come harder. The smell of caramelized sugar is starting to fill the room. He can feel a trickle of wetness between his legs. His hand stops.

He had never really produced much slick before, probably due to his overuse of suppressants. There would maybe be a bit here or there, but never enough to merit any attention. Now, though, it’s dampening his boxers. He slides his hand further down to prod at the fluid curiously. As his fingers brush against the outside of his hole a bolt of pleasure shoots through him. His hips buck into the air and a new wave of slick meets his fingers. He pulls his hand out of his boxers like something bit him. Maybe not tonight.

He tries to settle back into the couch, but the dampness of his boxers and the persistent, pulsing ache low in his gut make it impossible. With a defeated sigh he gets up. Walking into the bathroom he grabs a towel, pausing to shuck his ruined boxers into the laundry pile, and returns to the couch. He feels a twinge of embarrassment as he lays the towel down, but it’s overridden by the hot, liquid feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He settles on his hands and knees and moves his hand back, pressing his fingers against his dripping hole. A groan punches out of him as another intense wave of pleasure crashes through him. He slides a finger inside. The sensation is strange at first, usually the stretch is more intense, but now his finger slides in easily. Too easily, he can feel his body sucking greedily at the digit. He needs more. Waterboy’s big hands with their long elegant fingers come, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind. Robert presses another finger into himself with a moan.

How would it feel if the alpha were here? If he was using those fingers to open him up. Robert whimpers at the thought, slick pours out of him faster, he can see a strand of it drip between his legs and puddle on the towel. Would Waterboy, Herm, like that? Seeing how needy he was? How ready to be filled? Robert’s fingers are thrusting harder now, every breath held a choked back whine. He slides another finger in. His hole twitches, squeezing. It feels so good, but it’s not enough.

He thinks of Herm again, that lanky damp body. What would it feel like if he was behind Robert? The alpha would take care of him, would make the hollow aching inside stop. Robert thrusts back against himself, his neglected cock bouncing against his stomach. “Please please please.” His head feels like it’s full of cotton. His scent is so thick in the air he can taste it, feel it coating his tongue like syrup. He has been reduced to a creature of need.

Robert needs. He needs and needs and needs, and he knows that if Herm were here he would take care of him, satisfy him. Hasn’t the alpha been taking care of his other needs? The food, the drinks, being around, a quiet reassuring presence. If herm were here he would take care of Robert, he would use those long fingers to stretch him. Robert is panting now, tongue out, drool pooling on the towel under his face. His fingers make obscene sounds as they piston in and out of his greedy hole. He wishes it were Herm.

Even with three fingers he still feels so empty, If the alpha were here he would replace Robert’s fingers with his cock. His scent would fill the room mixing with Robert’s. He would thrust into him, fill him. He was so tall that Robert would feel small and safe and protected under him. Each thrust would rock his body forward. How would the alpha sound? Would he whimper? Or would he let out harsh growls like Robert had heard when he confronted Sonar? Both thoughts make more slick pour out of the omega.

Robert is getting close, he can feel it. Heat is coalescing in his core, wound tight, begging for release, but he can’t quite get there. “Please I need it please.” His hips rock back into his hand, driving his fingers even deeper. He wants Herm there, wants to feel him, wants his knot inside of him, stretching him, filling him so full. He wants to hear the noises alpha would make as he cums. Wants to feel Herm empty himself inside of him, filling him as his knot stretches Robert, keeping every drop of the alpha’s release deep inside. With that thought Robert cums, calling out Herm’s name as he shudders through his orgasm.

He collapses onto the soaked towel, wrung out, slowly coming back to himself, hazy and relaxed.

The feeling doesn’t last long. Shame crashes over him like a bucket of cold water. He just jerked off to Waterboy. Not only was he the man’s supervisor, he was six years his senior. Herm was sweet and inexperienced and probably looked up to Robert and he had just made himself cum thinking about the other man.

Robert collects the thoroughly soiled towel- at least it had mitigated some of the mess- and heads to the shower. He sets the temperature as hot as he can stand it and sits under the spray. He has to admit it to himself now. Waterboy is courting him, intentionally or not he can’t say, but either way he likes it. He likes it and that is exactly why he can't let it go any farther.

Herm is a good alpha, attentive and kind. He deserves so much better than Robert. The hot spray of the shower sluices down his body, washing away slick and cum. He grabs a washcloth and scrubs until his skin tingles. Robert knows he’s not good enough for Herm, his body is scarred and worn, and his mind isn’t any better. He’s touchy, abrasive, and has no experience being an omega. He could do so much better. Why he’s paying attention to Robert is a mystery, but whatever the reason he knows he has to stop it. Eventually Herm will realize what he really is, a washed up hero, an unpleasant person, a sorry excuse for an omega, and the fallout will crush Robert completely.

When the hot water runs out he turns off the shower and drags himself back to the couch. He numbly goes through the motions of settling in for sleep before falling into unconsciousness. His sleep is uneasy, and in the morning he will feel more tired than he is now.

Chapter Text

Herm is placing a container of hand pies on Robert’s desk when he smells it, Robert’s scent, but different, the bitterness of the coffee more prominent. He stands up quickly, turning to look behind him. The omega is there and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever, his shoulders slumped defeatedly. Herm stops himself from going to the shorter man, but just barely.

“Hey, Waterboy.” There’s something heavy in Robert’s voice that he doesn’t like.

“Hi- Good morn- hello si- Robert.” His heart is speeding. He knows he’s stammering. He can’t help it. Seeing the omega makes him feel like a flock of seagulls are fighting over a french fry in his stomach.

“Could we maybe meet up after work today? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Herm can feel himself nodding, feel the water slipping faster down the sides of his face, trickling down his collar. “Sure- of course- once- after work- okay.”

“Thanks, kid, for the food too. Have a good shift.” There’s a small smile on the omega’s face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

For all his social awkwardness Herm can tell when someone is ending a conversation. “You- thanks- too- you too.” He walks out of the bullpen. He needs to find a bucket to sit in. What did Robert want to talk about? It must have to do with the gifts. Did the omega realize he was courting him? He must have, as smart as he is.

He’s accepted all of the gifts, the food and the coffee. Maybe Herm doesn’t need to worry, maybe Robert just hasn’t been sleeping well. The meeting after work might not be a bad thing. It could be that Robert is accepting his advances. The thought makes his chest ache with hope. ‘No, he couldn't want you,’ whispers an insidious voice in the back of his head. ‘Not wet, anxious, stuttering Herman. He’s probably going to tell you to stop bothering him.’ Herm’s stomach roils, water surging in his throat.

Scratch the bucket. He needs to go stand in the showers.

…

Herm is waiting for Robert outside of the front doors of SDN at the end of the workday. He’s positioned himself just off the sidewalk near a storm drain so the sizeable puddle he’s making won’t cause anyone any issues. It feels like he’s been waiting forever. He checks his phone, just five minutes. His nervous anticipation makes time stretch, his mind flicking through every possible reason for this meeting, over and over again.

A hand on his shoulder jerks him out of his reverie. “Hey, I was thinking we could grab some dinner. How about that taco place?” Herm finds himself nodding before he really thinks about it. He doesn’t mind though. If Robert wants tacos, then Herm wants to get him tacos.

They walk in silence, Herm a pace behind and to the side, between Robert and the street. He knows it's old fashioned, but he likes the thought that he was protecting the omega, even in some small way. He is content to walk like this, in Robert’s company. It's nice to listen to his breathing and the even cadence of his footfalls. He can't smell Robert, he’s probably using scent blockers, but that doesn't matter, not really, not when they're both walking in the same direction.

Too soon the restaurant appears. Herm is almost a bit sad. Waiting for whatever this might be is difficult, and he's wracked with anxiety, revealed by his wetter than average footprints, but for the span of this walk, at least, he still had the possibility of something with the omega. Herm steps forward and reaches for the door, holding it open.

“Chivalrous.” Robert says with a bit of a smirk.

Herm shrugs “My grandma has opinions on- about ch- manners.”

This startles a laugh out of the omega. Herman likes the sound.

They stand side by side, eyes scanning the menu. When Herm has decided he looks over at Robert, waiting for him to be ready. The shorter man looks over, giving Herm a nod, and they approach the counter. Their orders placed and number received they head outside, finding a quiet table. The air has a weight, like a storm is brewing, like something’s coming.

The oppressive atmosphere is broken by a tinny speaker announcing their order. “I’ll get- I’ve got it.” the alpha says, springing to his feet so quickly he almost slips in the water that’s collected under him. As he makes his way to the counter he doesn’t see the expression of longing flash across Robert’s face before the omega schools himself back into a polite mask.

The food is good in the way that shitty americanized Mexican food is. They eat in the same silence that they walked in. Robert eats his tacos slowly. Herm wonders if the omega is stalling, but decides to be patient. He had made himself clear, but he wouldn’t press matters. He needed this to be Robert’s call.

Their food finished, the two sit in silence. Herm can just barely smell a bit of bitterness from the omega. He smells stressed. A whine tries to escape the alpha but he clamps down on the sound. Robert didn’t seem like he wa going to say anything, folding and refolding a bit of wax paper. Herm breaks the silence. “You said- wanted- you said you wanted to talk to- talk about something?”

Robert scrubs a hand down his face. “Yeah, I did. I-” Robert pauses, his brow furrowed. He tries again. “I appreciate all of the food and the coffee, Herman, really I do, but I don’t think we’re the right fit.” The bitter smell becomes stronger, burnt sugar rising to join it.

“Oh,” the alpha’s voice is steady, more so than he expected. “Will you- can you tell me why?”

Robert sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. You’re a good alpha. You’re attractive, you’ve proved you’re attentive, you’re not overbearing, you’re respectful, hell, you’re even fucking chivalrous. You don’t want someone like me.”

The alpha cocks his head, confused. “Someone- I don't get- understand. Someone like you?”

The omega won’t meet his eyes, the distressed smell growing stronger. “I’m not… I'm not a good omega.” Herm opens his mouth as if to cut him off but Robert raises his hand. “Let me finish. In general I’m not a good candidate for a romantic relationship. I’m beat to shit physically and mentally. My body is rough and my mind isn’t much better. Doing hero work the way I did it for fifteen years… It comes with a lot of baggage that I wouldn’t want to put on anyone, much less someone I cared about. To add to that, the two of us wouldn’t be ideal for a romantic relationship without any of the secondary gender stuff interfering. I’m basically your boss, and I’m six years older than you. Those two things make the power dynamic between us unfair."Robert's words come out clipped and harsh, like he's nailing a coffin shut. "Finally, the medical issue I told you about. I’ve been on suppressants for the last seventeen years straight. I don’t know how to be an omega. My hormones are going haywire and I don’t know if or when they’ll normalize.” Herman is looking at him with sad gray eyes, his calm scent rising. Robert breathes it in, steadying himself. “No one deserves to deal with all of that shit. Especially not you. You deserve better kid.”

Herm’s eyes harden, his mouth drawing itself into a firm line. He pushes his goggles down his face and fixes Robert with a firm stare. “I- I.” He pauses, taking several deep breaths. “I am not a- not a kid. I am a man and I know- I can decide who I do an- who I want. I want- it’s you. I don’t want any- another person. I don’t care about that- the baggage.” Robert sits back, eyes wide. Herm presses on, speaking slowly, working around his stammer. “In the company guide- SDN handbook there isn't anything about- against dispatchers and heroes being- courting.” Herman continues doggedly, responding to each issue Robert raised. “I don’t believe- think you're the kind of person to do- use your position against me. If you’re con- worried we can tell- talk to Ms. Blazer. Finally, I don’t care- the omega stuff isn’t- it’s not as important to me as you.”

Robert is silent for a while, processing. “You hardly know me, Herm.”

The alpha shakes his head, his expression solemn. “I do- know you. You help people- help with ties. You’re patient with me- my thing- not stutter thing. You cheer people up when they need it. You really- you believe in people.” As he talks his speech comes more easily. This might be the most confident he has ever been in the words coming out of his mouth. “You believe in redemption and giving people chances. You’re strong and you fight for what you believe in. You fight for those- for people who can’t fight for themselves. The other stuff matters but it doesn’t make- doesn’t outweigh all the good about you. I want- I want all of it. As much of it as you’ll let me have.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Robert looks shellshocked. Herm waits for him to make his decision. He can’t let himself hope that the omega will listen. In the end it’s Robert’s call. He’ll accept whatever the older man decides, but he wants so so badly for Robert to decide to give this a chance. The only sounds are distant traffic and the quiet drip from Herm into the puddle at his feet.

“Fine” Robert’s voice is so soft he’s worried he imagined it.

“Really? I can- you want to- I can keep courting you?”

“Yeah, but I want to be clear. If it gets to be too much for you, if I’m bringing you down or too much hassle or whatever, you can cut me loose. Just fucking leave. I can take it.”

Herm decides to let it lie. He doesn't think he'll ever want to leave. He wants Robert. All of him. But he'll take this for now and be happy. He smiles at the omega “Cool- iooo.” He cringes internally. Not his best work, but Robert laughs, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

The omega rises to his feet. “I left Beef with Chase but I have to pick him up soon. He’s got some hero stuff he’s gotta do, now that he has Blazer’s amulet.” He walks over to Herm, and he’s close, so close. Herm can scent him more strongly than he ever has before. It’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. Robert leans in and brushes his scent gland along Herm’s neck. “See you at work tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

“Herm, dear, would you come down here? I need your help.”

“Coming.” The sound of footfalls on the stairs was muffled by the layers of damp towels. “What- oh.” He paused for a moment, taking in the web of yarn encasing the entirety of the living room.

“Mimsy stole my yarn and Darwin decided he wanted to take it from her. I can’t quite seem to get it untangled.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got- I’m on it.” Once he’s tracked down the ball of yarn he starts to wind it back up, passing it around the legs of tables and under couches and arm chairs. He pauses, surveying the room. This will take a while.

“Wile I have you, dear, I have to ask, how are things going with that omega you mentioned the other day?” The alpha makes a choked sound before mumbling something unintelligible. “You need to speak up, dear, my ears don’t work as well as they did.” Herm is silent for a while, but his grandma can see his ears and the back of his neck flushed red. “You’ve still been bringing food into work. Has he accepted your courtship?”

Herm knows he’s trapped. He won’t be able to leave until the yarn is untangled, or else one of the multitude of cats in the house will definitely make the tangle worse. If Potato or Bread were feeling particularly naughty they might even eat some of it. He didn’t want to have to deal with a vet visit for that. He knows his grandma, she’ll just keep on the topic until he caves. Might as well tell her. Honestly, it might be nice to have someone listen as he goes over all the things that are on his mind.

“Things are going- I mean they’re. It’s kind of complicated.” He’s focuses on getting the yarn unwound from a chair leg. The task makes talking easier, gives him something else to do besides agonize about the way his thoughts become words. “We’re- he accepted, which is good. But he- I think he’s- maybe the right word is confused? No, that's not- it's something else.”

His grandma makes an understanding noise in the back of her throat. She works a few more stitches, and her needles make a familiar soft clicking noise. It makes him feel a bit more at ease.

“He didn’t- I don’t know if he realized what I was doing at- in the beginning. I thought- at first I thought he did but then he didn’t say anything until today. He asked to meet after work, talk about stuff.” The yarn is caught on the foot of a chair. He tries to pry it off without breaking the strand. He’s silent until the chair is free and the bit of yarn untangled. He moves on to the next snarl. “I didn’t- I hoped he was accepting me- the courting, but I wasn’t sure. I liked- it was nice either way, being around him.”

His grandma is a good listener, patient with him as he formulates his sentences. She hums softly every so often, letting him know that he has her attention, that she’s still listening, but gives him as much time as he needs to get his thoughts out.

“We walked to a restaurant and ate, but we didn’t talk until- not until after. I think- he smelled upset, but he didn’t- he wasn’t saying anything, so I asked what he wanted to talk about.” Herm works on a particularly stubborn knot around the radiator, but he can’t seem to get it loose. His hands, trembling with the conflicting emotions that rise in him at the memory of his earlier conversation with Robert certainly don’t help matters. He sets down the yarn but continues to look at it blankly. “He said- he said he didn’t deserve me.” His voice cracks. “He said I was good and he didn’t want- said he would drag me down.”

“And you don’t think so.” His grandma’s tone is calm and knowing.

“No- ofcourse- absolutely not. He’s- he said he was worried because- since he’s older and my supervisor. And because he’s- he was a hero for a while- a long time- before he was a dispatcher, he says he’s beat up from it, has baggage. But I don’t care. I like- part of the reason I like him is because he’s the kind of person who wants to- he wants to help others and he’ll- he risks himself for others. He’s generous that way.” Herm’s voice has gone wobbly, his words coming quickly.

“He sounds like a good person, dear.”

“He is a good- a great person. But he doesn't get- doesn't see it. He’s worried about baggage, about not being good enough. He, I think he- he said he was on suppressants for too long. I think it might be because of being- you know- so being a hero was easier.”

“Ah, I see. It was like that for more people in my day. Being an omega can be hard. Things have gotten better, but some people still don’t take us seriously, even now.” Her tone is a bit sad. Herm knows this is something his grandma cares about deeply. Knows that over the course of her life one of the things she strove to do was stand up to those who put people down just for being an omega.

“I just- I wish he would understand how I- that I think he’s good. Great.” He starts working on the knot at the radiator again. It’s the last one, once he gets it untied he’ll be able to wrap up the rest of the loose yarn, get it all back into a neat ball.

“You did say he accepted, dear. You must have managed to get through to him, at least a little bit.”

“Maybe. I mean- just- probably only a little. I told him what I liked- what I thought was good about him. Why I wanted to court him, that I didn’t care about the stuff- baggage. I told him this wasn’t against the- its fine, for dispatchers and heroes to court, I mean. Said we could talk to our boss about- since he’s my supervisor. He said I could keep courting him but-”

There’s one stubborn knot he can’t quite reach, deep underneath the radiator. Herm lays on his side, reaching as far back as he can, trying to catch it and draw it out where he can see it better. He needs to get it into the light so he can figure out what’s snagging and untangle it.

“He said if he bothers me I should leave him. It’s like- it seems like he’s expecting- like he doesn’t. I don’t know.”

“Oh, the poor boy.” Herm looks up at his grandma questioningly. “He’s worried about you. He probably isn’t used to sharing his troubles, he might feel like he has to handle everything himself. I’ll bet that you taking care of him feels strange, maybe even a little frightening.”

“I don’t- I wouldn’t want to scare him.”

“No, not frightened in a bad way. It’s like…” she pauses thoughtfully. “It’s like when you’re doing something new, and you don’t know what to expect. No matter how nice what’s happening is, the strangeness makes many people nervous or scared.” Herm’s fingers finally manage to free the knot. He can see what he’s doing now, where to pull to unravel the thing. “I think what you need to do is to be yourself. Treat him how you treat everyone, with kindness and understanding. He just needs time to see that you’re not going anywhere.”

The knot comes undone and Herm returns the tidy ball to his grandmother. She accepts it with a smile. “Thank you, dear. Now,” she covers a yawn with her hand. “It’s getting late, why don’t you help your old gran up to bed?”

Chapter Text

Robert has been distracted all morning, and the team can tell. He’s been messing up on assigning calls. Not badly enough for people to fail, but enough so that everyone has to work harder than usual to keep up. He’s trying his best, but he hadn’t slept well again last night, and he has the start of a sore throat. The tickle wouldn't be so bad if his job wasn’t, like, eighty percent talking. Really, though, those are just excuses. What his mind returns to, again and again, is the conversation last night. It had gone completely off the rails.

Robert rubs his fingers along his brows, trying to relieve some of the tension there. He had wanted to distance himself from the alpha, get a bit of breathing room, protect himself from the fall out when the relationship inevitably failed. Robert was involved, after all, so how could it succeed?

He had expected to make his speech and for Waterboy to understand how incredibly limited and undesirable he was. He hadn’t expected Herm to argue. The alpha had taken Robert’s points, one by one, and destroyed them. Each counter argument so solid the omega couldn’t refute anything. And then, then he had given Robert the reasons why he wanted him, and Robert had never felt so seen in his life.

Mecha Man, and by extension Robert Robertson the Third, was generally considered a brave man. He regularly went out and fought supervillains. He was used to risking his life. Death defying stunts were a Tuesday, and he hadn’t batted an eye when he learned that his new job would supervising, among others, an assassin and a man who could burn him to a crisp that held a grudge against him. This, though, was uncharted territory. He felt vulnerable, like his soft pink underbelly was exposed and he had to trust that the universe would, for once in his life, pull its punches.

Yeah, alright, fine. He was scared. He was scared because he wanted what Herm had to offer. He wanted someone who was good and kind and cared for him, even with everything he lacked. Someone who saw him and decided to stay. He knew he didn’t deserve it, that was why he had given Herm an out. If he gave Herm express permission to leave him when the alpha figured out that Robert was damaged goods, not worth the effort, then maybe, just maybe, taking what the younger man offered wouldn't make Robert a bad person.

Robert’s eyes flick to the two containers on the side of his desk. One was empty, the slice of quiche inside long since devoured. The other held half a dozen chocolate chip cookies he was planning to eat this afternoon. Robert felt that warmth stirring inside of his chest again. He imagined Herm, up early, cooking for him. It made him feel important. He would miss that feeling when this was over, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop now, to pull away. He was already in too deep. Now he just had to take what he could get while he could get it.

He’s pulled out of his conflicted thoughts by a voice over the comms. “Third Robertson, might I have some assistance?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry Phenomaman, just a little distracted. What’s up?”

“This woman is stating that there is a problem with the animal inside her dwelling and she needed it removed; however, there were two different animals on the premises. When I asked for clarification she said that the cute one belonged there and the other one did not. I; therefore, took the angry hissing one outside and left the American opossum in its place. She seems displeased by this.”

“Oh my god, okay. Let me get this straight. You put her cat outside and left the opossum in her house.” Robert could feel a headache starting.

“I believe the American opossum to be very cute. I am less sure about cats.”

“Ok, fuck, uh, just take the opossum outside and track down that cat. Maybe put some tuna out or something to lure it in.” Robert pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m too fucking tired for this shit.”

“What, Bob Bob, somebody keeping you up all night?” Visi chuckles breathlessly at her own joke.

“Nah, as if anybody would want Bitchbert.”

“What, the lad’s not so bad.”

“It’s not- you shouldn’t give him a- say stuff just because he’s an omega.” Robert’s eyes shot open. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“What, you think we’re roasting Boberto ‘cause he’s an omega? That would be fucked up.” Sonar is audibly surprised.

Flambae is speaking a bit faster than normal. Is he nervous? “No, there’s so many other things to make fun of Bitchbert for. Like that he has no powers, or that, like, he fucking sucks.”

“Hm, I don’t know babes, bitch is kinda worse if it’s an omega. It’s like, gendered and all.”

“Oh shit, you’re right.”

“I have never called Robert a bitch.” Smugness drips from Coupe’s voice.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever bitch, rub it in. But really, Bob Bob, sorry about, ya know.”

“Wow, Prism, that’s the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.” Robert manages to keep his voice deadpan. It’s a struggle.

“Fuck, that beats when Flambae told you you weren’t his type?” Visi sounds scandalized.

He cracks, and the whole team can hear the smile in his voice.“Second nicest thing, I stand corrected. Now, let’s focus.”

…

Robert is in the break room grabbing his sandwich from the fridge when Herm finds him. “Good morn- afternoon, Robert.”

The omega turns and smiles up at him. “Hey, Waterboy, it’s good to see you.”

“You as we- too. But why- I thought you were saying- calling me…” The alpha trails off, not quite knowing how to finish his sentence.

“Oh, yeah, I have been, but I thought it would be better to call you Waterboy at work. Keep the secret identity secret and all.” Robert has a playful smirk on his face that makes Herm’s heart beat faster.

“That- yeah that makes sense.”

“ Thanks for the quiche, it was really good. What was in it?” Herm grins.

“I’m happy- glad you liked it. It had- was goat cheese and greens- spinach and sun dried tomatoes.”

“Well I really liked it.” Robert looks around, and, seeing that they're the only two in the room, continues. “Thank you Herm.” The alpha flushes.

“I actually- ah, I wanted to see- ask you something.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Would you- if you have time- I was wondering- we’re- have tomorrow off- go-” Herm stops and takes several slow deep breaths. Robert stands silently, relaxed. It seems like he’s willing to wait all day for Herm to get the question out. The alpha might be a little bit in love with him for that. “We have tomorrow Fr- off. Would- will you come- go out with me? Like a- on a date?”

Herm can smell sugar, just faintly. “I’d love to. Does noon work?” The alpha nods, not quite trusting his voice. “Great. You know where my place is from when you came to the party, right? Wanna meet there?”

“Great! Yeah that's- that works great. Awe- awesome.” He’s rambling. He closes his mouth so quickly his teeth click. Robert chuckles, just a little. The sound makes Herm smile.

“See you tomorrow at noon, then.” Herm expects him to turn and leave, so when the omega steps just a bit closer and brushes their wrists together, scenting him, he freezes. Robert shoots one more smile at the beet red Alpha before leaving with his sandwich.

Before the door can swing closed it’s caught by Malevola. The demoness starts towards the fridge and then pauses, tipping her head up to scent the air. “Huh.” She gives Herm a speculative look, but says nothing else, much to his relief.

…

Robert looks at the contents of his closet with a quiet sort of dismay. He had thought he had clothes before this, but now that he’s really looking, he has his Mecha Man suit, a few work shirts, a couple pairs of work pants, a hoodie and sweats, and a couple of faded tee shirts. Nothing that says ‘I’m making an effort to look nice.’ Up until now he was fine with that, hell, he had liked it that way. He would say he doesn’t know what changed, but that would be a lie. He wants to look nice for Herm, so here he is, at eleven forty five, digging through the still packed boxes in his apartment, hoping he can find that pair of jeans that he thinks he has stashed somewhere around here.

By eleven fifty nine he’s standing near the door in his jeans, not too badly wrinkled, and his least faded tee shirt. He’s about to head to the bathroom to check his appearance for the third time when he hears a knock at the door. He opens it before he can wonder if answering the door so quickly seems weird.

He somehow doesn’t expect to see Herm out of his suit, but on second thought, that was silly of him. Still, he pauses as he takes in the alpha. He’s wearing some kind of hiking pants, dark green, and a skintight long sleeve black shirt, his goggles are gone and his eyes, now clearly visible, are a shockingly clear gray. He looks good, really good. Robert swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

“He- hi, how are- you ready to get- to go?” There’s a flush on his cheeks.

“Hi, yeah. I think so. I just realized I never asked what we were gonna be doing. Is this okay?”

“You- yeah, it's gr- good. You look rea- nice. You look nice.” That feeling hits Robert again, the twisting warmth in his chest. He’s started to recognize it as his instincts telling him that he’s safe, that this alpha is good, that he’ll take care of him. Robert can feel himself blushing.

Robert locks his door and they start walking out of the building “You look nice too, it’s different. I haven’t seen you out of your suit before.”

“Oh, th- yeah I guess so. There’s a- They make a lot of hik- outdoor stuff waterproof these- nowadays. It works better than- looks more normal than the suit.” He holds his arms out and tries to do a spin, but because they’re still walking it turns into more of a stumble. Herm catches himself and smiles over at the omega, making him laugh.

Herm leads Robert to the curb and motions toward an old white corolla. “This is u- our ride.”

“I didn’t realize you had a car.”

“It’s not mi- I don’t. It’s my grandma’s. Or, the household c- vehicle?” He walks around to the passenger side door and opens it for Robert.

“You weren’t kidding about your grandma being serious about manners, were you?” Robert says, looking up at the alpha as he slides into the seat.

Herm leans down, forearm on the top of the door frame, looking Robert in the eyes. This close he catches a bit of the alpha’s scent, and he feels his body relax.“I wouldn- would never joke about so- about that.” He shoots Robert a smile before standing up and closing the door.

Herm slides into the driver’s seat- covered in towels- and starts the car, then grabs the aux, attaching it to his phone. “Do you- what do- kind of music do you like?”

Robert shifts in his seat, getting himself buckled in.“I don’t really have any super strong feelings, honestly. I’ll listen to whatever’s playing. Not the biggest country fan though.”

Herm laughs. Robert could get used to that sound. “You’re okay- safe. I don’t really- it’s not my thing either.”

“Oh yeah? What is your thing?” Robert knows he’s flirting. He feels a little embarrassed about it, then remembers it’s stupid to be embarrassed about flirting with someone when you’re on a date with them. That was kind of the point of dating. What the hell was Herm doing to him? He felt all giddy and nervous, but somehow relaxed at the same time.

“I lov- like alternative stuff. Mostly metal- but I can- there’s chiller stuff too.”

“Why don’t we start chiller, we can work our way up to more intense stuff later.” The double entendre must register with the alpha, because the scent of bergamot grows stronger, filling the car. Robert tries to be subtle about how deeply he’s breathing as the alpha selects something on the phone. The music is nice, it’s obviously alternative, heavy drums and guitar, but still melodic, and at a low volume it’s oddly soothing. They drive for a while, idly chatting about this and that or sitting in comfortable silence.

Eventually Herm pulls up to a park, Before Robert can get it himself the alpha is at his door, opening it for him. “You know I can do that myself, you don’t have to. I won’t scold you, I promise.”

Herm looks to the side, blushing. “I want to- like to. I- it makes me feel good- happy.”

Robert stands there a minute, processing. It was something he hadn’t considered before. He knew that he liked to do things for people, to help them, it was just who he was. It had never occurred to him; however, that someone else might get joy from doing something for him. It was an odd feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

“Ro- Robert.” Herm’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks over at the other man. He’s got his hands full, carrying a couple of bags. “Do you- would you like to pick some- a spot?”

“A spot?”

“Yes- yeah, for the- for a picnic.”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll pick a spot.” He walks over to Herm. “Here, let me take something.”

“No- It’s- I’m good.” Robert makes a move to grab one of the bags but he dances away.

“Really, I might not have super strength but I can handle a bag or two.” he huffs.

“I know tha- I know you can. I wan- I’d like to do this- carry things for you. Like the door. Like the food- cooking for you. Please, I want- let me do this for you.”

The words knock the air out of Robert. The way Herman had said them, so matter of fact, those gray eyes looking at him with such determination. It was almost like the alpha was willing him to understand, to believe him. “Okay. I guess I’ll pick a spot then.”

The two of them end up under a jacaranda tree. It's just starting to bloom, and the purple flowers sway in the wind over their heads. Robert is impressed as he watches the alpha unpack and set up the picnic. Herm had thought of everything. There’s two blankets, one a quilt and the other a waterproof blanket. He’s packed a variety of sandwiches as well as fresh fruit and cookies that are somehow still warm. The alpha also brought all of the utensils they would need and a thermos full of apple juice. Everything has been packed carefully to keep things dry. For a moment Robert is overwhelmed. It’s just too much, all of this care, all at once. He’s not used to it, it feels wrong, but as he watches Herm lay the blankets out so that the quilt will stay dry as they sit together he finds that he doesn’t care. It might be foreign to him, but he wants this with a viciousness that alarms him.

The picnic is delicious, not that Robert is surprised. Over the past several days he has learned that Herm is an excellent cook. The conversation flows surprisingly well, and he learns that he enjoys the younger man’s goofy sense of humor. Robert can’t remember the last time he laughed this much. Before the pair realize it the food is finished and the sun is sinking in the sky, leaving the park hushed and quiet.

Robert has slowly worked his way onto the waterproof blanket. He can feel his jeans soaking up the water pooled beneath the other man but he can’t say he cares. He’s close enough to feel the warmth coming off of the alpha and every so often he catches a faint whiff of his scent. The combination makes him feel a humming sort of relaxation. Herm says something and Robert turns to face him. “Hm?”

He hadn’t realized how close they had gotten. He can feel the warm puffs of the alpha’s breath across his face. “I would like- can- can I kiss you?” The words make his stomach clench in anticipation.

“Yes.”

Herm leans in, pressing his lips to the omega’s uncertainly and then pulling back. “Sorry I- I haven't really- I’ve never done that before. I want- can I try again?”

Not bothering with a response Robert leans back in. He takes control of the kiss, moving his lips against the alpha’s. Herm’s lips are soft and damp. He yields to the omega. Robert slides his tongue along Herm’s bottom lip, making the younger man gasp. He uses the opportunity to lightly flick his tongue into the alpha’s mouth, earning him an increase of the alpha’s scent and a soft whine. The effect this has on him is immediate and intense.

Before he can think about what he’s doing he has climbed into Herm’s lap, his legs wrapped around the alpha’s waist. Long arms wrap themselves around Robert’s back, holding him securely, as his hands thread through damp auburn hair. He pulls Herm down into him, parting his lips to encourage the alpha to explore his mouth. The feeling of Herm’s tongue gently stroking against his draws a soft moan from the omega. The sound spurs the alpha on, his movements becoming more sure of themselves. Herm is breathing hard, making soft whimpering noises as his tongue slides against the omega’s. Robert can smell them both, sugar and rain. It smells right.

Herm breaks the kiss but stays close, speaking against Robert’s lips. “You’re- I think you’re purring.”

Robert jerks away, hand going to his chest. He can feel his shirt clinging to his chest wetly where he was pressed against the alpha, and the vibrations shaking through him. “Y-yeah. I, ah, I guess I am.” Now that he’s no longer pressed against the Alpha the cool evening air bites at him, his wet clothes making him feel all the colder. He shivers.

“You’re- sorry- I got you- it’s cold and you’re- I got you wet.” Herm is looking at him with concern, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt.

“It’s alright. I was the one who climbed on top of you, so, really, I got myself wet.”

“Still. I can- I should take you home.”

Another shiver shakes Robert. “Okay, sure.”

They tidy up quickly and walk back to the car, their shoulders brushing. “Hey, Herm?”

“Ye- yeah?”

“Thanks. For today. It was, it was really really nice.” Robert’s hand finds the alpha’s wrapped around the handle of a tote bag. He threads his fingers into the empty spaces there. “I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

Herm adjusts his hand to better hold Roberts. “I did- me too.”