Chapter Text
And if not, at least it will be over. Olive had been repeating the words Adam had told her over and over again as she made her way to her panel. Opposed to all of the empty, blind encouragement of you can do this, you’ll be fine Olive had received from her well-intentioned friends and advisors, Adam’s advice went along the lines of even if you can’t do this, you’ll still be fine, which meant a lot more to Olive, because in all honesty she wasn’t sure if she could do this.
She had been mentally preparing herself for SBD for a while, but it certainly didn’t help that she'd fallen sick somehow, too. She’d felt funny for a couple of days now, getting migraines too often and bouts of dizziness she couldn’t explain. She was sweating, despite being in Boston, in the cold September weather, and her mind felt slower, which wasn’t exactly what she needed today. Adam had asked her numerous times if she was okay, and she’d waved him off with a repeated chorus of I’m fine, took some Advil and bolted out of there.
Olive liked being with Adam, but the more time she’d spent with him, the more she felt things she had never experienced before, and it scared the hell out of her. She had known by now that she had fallen for him, but the half-formulated, intrusive thoughts and dreams she’d been having of him - of them - recently was overwhelming: too new and too much all at once. It didn’t help that he smelt so good either. She’d actually had to up her suppressants onto a higher dosage a while into their fake-dating scheme, too, wondering if that was the cause.
She’d never been attracted to an Alpha’s smell before: she could smell them, but she had never taken any interest in them. She could smell Anh’s scent, knew it was there, but it smelled like nothing in particular; similar to hearing an accent in someone’s voice but being unable to place it. Even in the few heats she’d had in her lifetime, she’d never spent them with anyone, didn’t desire to, and she had never felt drawn to throw out her better thinking at the pheromones of an alpha. It was the 21st century, after all, and Olive was glad she lived in a world where, due to suppressants, blockers - and an absolutely fabulous develop in the knotting toy industry - that Alphas and Omegas weren’t ruled by their biologies and designations anymore.
She had seen how some omegas seemed to be dictated by their need for sex nearing heat, and Olive thanked the lords that had never been the case for her. Maybe it was simply that Olive had never bothered with sex to begin with, and the same went for her omega.
That was why she had been surprised to find an Alpha whose scent she was instantly drawn to: three years ago in that bathroom; passing in the hallway on her fourth day at Stanford; and when she’d recognised it again after pressing herself up against him in a lab at midnight. He smelled like how eating warm pastries coated in drizzling chocolate felt, and the day she had been sat on his lap, and gotten up close - closer than she ever should’ve been - her senses had been positively engulfed by the smell of him. She remembered the utter shock she felt when she learned he wasn’t yet mated, the discovery paving way for her omega imagining him looking after her, loving and providing for her, seeing her through her lonely heats-
It was a thought process that had severely confused Olive, and she actively tried to suppress from her memory. It must just be his smell, she told herself. It’s just biology, nothing more.
She reached the seminar hall, and shook away her thoughts of Adam, mentally preparing herself one last time.
At least it’ll be over.
— — —
The panel had gone well - more than well - and Olive would have felt an overwhelming sense of pride if her head hadn’t been splitting. Anh and Malcolm had asked if she would be okay, whether they should contact Adam, whether they shouldn’t go out for drinks, and Olive had reassured them that they should go out and she’d go to her room and she’d be fine after a nap. She hoped. Her head was pounding, she felt nauseous and dizzy, and, contrary to the overheating she’d been experiencing before, she now felt incredibly chilly and just wanted to hurry back into her bed.
Except it wasn’t even her bed, it was an impersonal, sterile hotel bed, and Olive wasn’t at home, in her bed. In her nest .
She fumbled with her keycard going into the room, it taking several times before it flashed green. She threw herself into the bed, and hurriedly tried to rid herself of her painful shoes and uncomfortable dress. It was still early, she presumed Adam wouldn’t be home for hours - his talk wasn’t even finished yet - and he’d probably be going out with the rest of what Olive assumed was 99% of Stanford cohort. She couldn’t find her pyjamas, and she was too tired and disoriented to solve that issue, so she just wrapped herself under the duvet and tried to get to sleep.
She’d be fine when she woke up.
Waking up not even an hour later, she felt empty. She was missing something, something she couldn’t place and it filled her with a void so massive she wanted to curl up and cry. Her mind was unsettled and faraway, her throat was drier than the desert, and the cramps consumed her stomach. What was wrong with her? What was happening to her?
Then, a smell drifted into Olive’s nose that was simply the best thing she had ever smelled, and despite her better judgement of wanting to stay holed up in bed, her body propelled her towards the source of the delicious scent. It was coming from the other side of the room, from near Adam’s bed, and she quickly began looking around the room until she could find out what. it. was.
She found a black, leather overnight bag - Adam’s, she figured - and began ransacking through the travel-sized bottles and expensive devices when she found it.
The smell was coming from a piece of soft, dark fabric, which as she held it up, unfolded into a shirt with big white block letters.
Biology ninja.
She probably would question it, if she hadn’t immediately shoved her face into the fabric and inhaled. She stood, face still pressed to the shirt, and walked back into a big bed, that she happily let herself collapse backwards onto. The scent was stronger now, and her omega preened when Olive realised it was all over the bed, too. She burrowed into the quilt, rubbing her face along the pillows and spreading herself out like a starfish. It smelled delicious.
Alpha, her omega purred. She threw the scrumptious shirt over her head, which covered the same amount of skin as her too-short dress had, except it was much comfier, and smelled amazing. She lay back into the comforter, cheek nestling against the sheets, feet rubbing up and down, and hugging the shirt to her skin.
Heaven .
The smell, acting as temporary medicinal dosage, seemed to clear up the fog in her brain, bringing back enough consciousness so Olive could realise the bizarreness of what she was doing. She was wearing Adam’s shirt, which she had found from rummaging through his bag, and this was his bed that she was rolling around in. Though, let it be said that whilst her cerebrum had returned enough for her to know that she should absolutely not be doing any of this, and that she was incredibly weird, invasive and borderline-perverted for it, it hadn't returned enough to make her stop doing any of it.
What the fuck was wrong with her? Why was she being a total, perverted weirdo-
And that’s when it dawned on Olive the severity of what was happening.
And fuck her life.
Fuck. Her. Life.
Because this couldn’t be happening now, could it? Did the universe really hate her that much? Her heat wasn’t due for at least six months, so it couldn’t be happening now, could it ?
Except she already knew the answer, because of course she did. She didn’t know how she hadn’t realised sooner.
She didn’t have any of her knots here, the cramps were already getting worse, she was about to start crying, and she was probably going to start making a mess of Adam’s bed anytime soo-
Adam .
Oh no. Oh, shit. Adam.
She couldn’t do this to Adam. For one she shouldn’t be in his bed, or wearing his clothes, and now she’d broken the one rule he’d asked of her. He had been so careful and so mindful of her boundaries and needs - something Olive knew wasn’t the case for an overwhelming number of Alphas - and she’d gone and broke the one thing he’d asked of her.
“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?” He asked.
“Nope. That’s the last of my rules. Do you have any you want me to know about?”
He hesitated, opened his mouth as if he was about to speak and then closed it again and shook his head. “No, that’s everything.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed, because he definitely didn’t look it. “If you have something you think we should discuss I’d prefer if we do it now, for your sake.”
He was quiet for a moment and said low, “I don’t want to offend or embarrass you…”
“Listen, I won’t be offended, if you have a boundary you want to set, we should talk about it. Also I don’t think it can get any more embarrassing for me after what I said earlier.”
He chuckled a huff of air, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, and nodded as if conceding his point.
He was silent for a while, seemingly contemplating something in his head, before making his decision with a curt nod and looking back to her.
He cleared his throat. “During our… arrangement… if you are due to go into heat… I need to know days beforehand.”
Whatever Olive had been expecting to come from his lips, it had not been that. She was taken aback, and could absolutely see why he was hesitant to ask her, it was something incredibly personal and Olive felt a blush creep up her neck.
He must’ve picked up on her reluctance, because he quickly added, “Olive, forget that I said anything, you don’t need to divulge to me anything about your personal life-“
“No, no,“ she cut him off. She figured it did make sense, he was an alpha after all. “It’s better to be upfront, I was just… shocked. Also, I can’t really say much after harassing you in the hallway and bringing up the idea of us… well, you know. But, I assume my heat won’t be due until after our fake-dating has ended, so you won’t need to worry. If that should change, I’ll let you know. Which actually, now that we mention it, we should probably have a deadline…”
At first his request had confused Olive, but she knew how uncomfortable it was to be around Alphas with a strong and unappealing scent, and it was known that omegas scents grow stronger around heat, so that was most likely why - he didn't want his nose twitching every two minutes trying to defend itself. But Adam didn’t smell unappealing to her at all. She wanted to crawl into his broad, defined cleavage and be cradled by his mighty oak arms.
She had never experienced a heat like this before, and she couldn’t fathom why she was addicted to an Alpha’s smell only now.
Our Alpha’s smell , her omega corrected.
Oh god, oh fuck. Olive’s omega was dying to be around Adam, and when he came back Olive was going to be a pathetic, blubbering mess begging ‘her’ Alpha to help her. To fuck her. The one thing Olive hadn’t had to worry about in the entirety of her life, and now it was happening whilst she was sharing a room with him.
Fuck .
But, Adam wouldn’t be back for hours. And being around his scent was calming her down, clearing the hazed stated of her heat-brain. She figured it would be a while yet before the cramps got completely unbearable and she truly entered her heat. So maybe until then, she could stay here, calm herself down a bit, and then she would call up the hotel, ask if they had any services accommodated for heats - surely they must have; if not Olive would leave a strongly worded yelp review about the discrimination and exclusion of designations happening in the 21st century - and she would move to a different room and spend her heat there until she could leave.
Her omega distressed at that thought.
Alpha, we need our alpha to help us.
It was going to be a long, hard weekend, she thought, as she tried to fall into sleep.
Only an hour or so later, when she was well into her heat did she hear the beep of the keycard and heavy steps entering the room.
“Olive?”