Noël moved quietly around the kitchen, hands steady and movements precise. The dinner was almost ready. This time something light but flavorful, with a little spice to keep it warm and familiar. He plated Avery's dish with practiced grace, feeling the calming rhythm of routine settle into his bones. It had been a long day, but not a bad one.
Mrs. Agnes hovered nearby, offering small tips, approving nods, and warm smiles. It had been surprisingly easy to talk to her, even soothing in a way Noël didn't realize he needed. She didn't pry too much, but she saw more than most. Maybe it came from years of raising children who didn't know how to be children.
As Noël set the final bowl on the table, Mrs. Agnes gave his shoulder a light pat.
"You did well today, child. He might not say it, but he notices."
"He doesn't really seem like the type who gives praise," Noël replied with a faint smirk.
"He doesn't. But his silence is loud, if you listen right." She winked and stepped back to gather her things.
She was already pulling her shawl over her shoulders as he walked her to the door.
"You're not staying for dinner?"
"No," she smiled. "I haven't stayed for years. I always leave before the table is set. He prefers it that way."
"Right…" Noël murmured, filing that piece of information away.
As she stepped out into the fading daylight, Mrs. Agnes gave him one last look. Kind, but knowing.
"Try not to lose yourself in that house, Noël. It's big enough to swallow quiet boys whole."
Before he could ask what she meant, she was already gone.
Noël shut the door softly, then made his way upstairs. He still had time before dinner was supposed to be eaten, and the heat of the kitchen clung to his skin. He peeled off his shirt and stepped into the shower, letting the cool water wash over him. He didn't take long, just enough to rinse away the sweat, reset his head.
What he didn't realize, as he toweled off and slipped into a clean t-shirt and joggers, was how strong his scent had become. Heat and steam had stirred it to the surface: soft peach with a touch of vanilla, mellow and creamy, like the skin of ripe fruit warmed by sun. It wasn't overpowering, but it lingered in the air like a ghost.
Meanwhile, Avery sat at the dining table, alone. The food was neatly arranged. hot, fresh and fragrant but Noël was nowhere in sight.
He frowned.
No note. No explanation. Not even the quiet shuffle of feet from the hallway. Avery leaned back in his seat, one arm draped over the back of the chair, the other resting on the cool wood of the table.
"Is he not eating with me today?"
He was just about to stand and return to his room when he felt it.
A change.
Something subtle in the air. Familiar, but different.
Avery tilted his head slightly, nostrils flaring as instinct kicked in. The scent came before the sound. The faintest whiff of something sweet, like a memory from childhood he couldn't quite place. It was… peach. And vanilla. And something softer underneath.
He didn't need to look. He knew Noël was coming.
Sure enough, the boy appeared in the doorway moments later, still slightly damp from the shower, his fluffier and damp hair, his shirt loose and plain. But something about him looked more vulnerable, almost exposed in a way that made Avery feel… off balance.
"Why aren't you eating with me tonight?" Avery asked, more abrupt than intended.
Noël blinked, caught off guard.
"I… your nanny mentioned you prefer eating alone."
She's not wrong, Avery taughtto himself, sitting straighter. But I didn't say you couldn't.
There was a pause between them. Noël studied him for a second longer than was polite.
"You knew I was coming," Noël said finally, a touch of suspicion in his voice. "Before I got here."
Avery shrugged.
"Lucky guess."
But it wasn't. He knew. He could feel it.
And smell it.
He hated how aware he was of Noël's scent now. How it filled the air so subtly that it made him want to breathe slower, deeper. His Alpha instincts stirred, not with urgency, but with curiosity. A strange comfort nestled beneath the attraction—something warm and strange.
Don't make it weird, he told himself.
Noël shifted awkwardly. Avery hadn't said anything else. No refusal. No demand.
"I'll eat here, then. If that's okay."
Avery gave a short nod.
Noël pulled out the chair and sat down across from him, still a little cautious.
Avery picked up his fork, but his gaze lingered. He didn't mention the scent. He didn't have to. It was already there between them, unspoken but heavy.
They ate in relative silence, but it was not uncomfortable. Just… charged.
And somewhere deep inside, Avery began to feel the slow erosion of his carefully built walls.
----------
As always, Avery finished eating first.
He rose from the table with that usual quiet elegance, giving Noël a brief nod before leaving without another word. It wasn't rudeness. Not exactly. More like practiced distance, the kind that kept people from getting too close.
Noël lingered, as he always did, gathering the plates and taking them to the sink. The sound of running water filled the kitchen, a calming hum that gave him a few moments to think. He washed the dishes methodically, movements automatic. But the scent hanging in the air didn't fade with the food. It clung to him like a whisper he couldn't shake but Noël still didn't realise it.
By the time he made it upstairs, his body felt heavier, warmer. As soon as he opened the door to his room, he froze.
His scent hit him like a wave.
Too strong.
He shut the door quickly, locking it behind him before collapsing onto the edge of the bed.
His hands curled into the sheets as realization sank in.
His heat cycle was close.
Not now.
Not here.
Not like this.
Noël leaned forward, pressing his face into his palms as a knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach. He hadn't expected it so soon. It was always unpredictable when stress was involved. And this job… this house… this Alpha…
He glanced at the closed door as if Avery's presence could seep through it.
I need a plan. Fast.
In the orphanage, Omegas were taught early on to avoid trouble during heat. Stay locked up. Never tempt the Alphas. It wasn't about trust it was survival. He used to hide in the unused storage room, away from everyone. No windows. One blanket. One fan.
Then came university. He'd saved up enough to book a cheap hotel room every few months, isolated and anonymous. That was when he started learning about suppressants—the fast-acting ones. The dangerous ones. The kind that could knock your system off balance if taken too often. But they dulled the ache and silenced the need, at least for a while.
Now he was here. In a stranger's home. In an Alpha's home.
The air felt too warm again. His skin sensitive. Thoughts blurry around the edges. And all he could think about was how close Avery's room was.
I can't risk this. I can't lose this job too.
He looked toward his backpack in the corner, digging through it until he found the little white box. A half-used packet of suppressants. He had maybe two, three doses left if he rationed them.
He stared at them for a long time before putting them aside.
Just one more cycle. Just survive this one. Then figure the rest out.
The vibration of his phone startled him. He glanced at the screen.
Leo: "Can I call you? Just for a bit. I miss your voice."
A bittersweet ache filled his chest.
Leo. His one friend from university. The only person who saw through the quiet, guarded shell and treated him like something whole. He hadn't heard his voice in weeks. Not since Noël left campus without saying goodbye.
He stared at the message.
Then tapped Call.
The phone rang once. Twice. Then:
"Noël?"
That voice. Warm, soft, familiar. It cracked something inside him.
"Hey, Leo," Noël murmured, his voice quieter than usual.
"You sound tired. Are you okay?"
Noël hesitated.
"Yeah. Just… long day."
"Are they treating you well there? Are you eating enough? You didn't disappear again, did you?"
That last question held more weight than Leo let on.
Noël exhaled through his nose, lying back on the bed.
"I didn't disappear. I just... needed a clean start."
"Without telling me? You're my best friend, Noël. I was worried sick."
His chest tightened.
"I'm sorry."
"Where are you now?"
"In a private home. The job pays well. It's quiet." He paused. "Usually."
Leo's voice softened.
"But you don't sound okay."
Noël hesitated, the truth caught between his teeth.
"My heat's coming early. I don't know what to do."
There was a long silence on the line.
"Do you have anyone around you?"
"An Alpha."
Too close.
"Is he safe?"
"I… I don't know. He's not cruel. But he's unpredictable. He's not like other people. Cold. Controlled."
"That's not reassuring," Leo said, tone protective now.
"It's fine," Noël insisted quietly. "I just… wanted to hear your voice."
Another pause.
"You'll be okay," Leo said finally. "But don't wait too long to take your suppressant. I remember how bad it gets when you try to hold it off."
Noël nodded even though Leo couldn't see him.
They talked for a while longer about nothing, and everything. The comfort in Leo's voice was enough to slow Noël's racing thoughts, at least for tonight.
But as he hung up and stared at the ceiling, the weight of what was coming settled back onto his chest.
He was running out of time. And space. And options.
And the scent of Alpha in this house would only make everything harder.