is that a ball gag?

Older! Flambae’s powers are different, with bright, blue and white flames because of an accident that involved him needing to burn hotter to save Robert and it sort of ‘unlocked’ his full-potential.

Robert lost a leg in the accident, and is fully retired from being Mecha Man and has Blonde Blazers job as head of the Torrance branch of SDN (I like to think she’s happily married and retired early)

(Man, at this point it needs a name lmao)

NSFW!

…

Robert’s had plenty of exes tell him that his scent is nice - unique - they’d say, for an Omega.

Unique isn’t really something you want to hear a heat partner say face-down in your crappy mattress.

He’s also had people tell him it’s off putting. Too intense, too strong. Not comforting enough, like a good Omega should be.

He’s never had anyone look at him the way that Flambae had, in the hallway.

Like he wanted to eat him alive.

And there was apart of him - a small, little piece of his soul - that was screaming yes, finally.

I found you.

Robert had never booked it home so fast in his life.

..

Robert thanks whatever God is out there that he had finally bought a mattress before his next heat, because ever since Shroud’s arrest they’ve just been getting worse.

Robert moans, writhing against his thin sheets. He’s not fully in heat yet, still able to think pretty clearly but he can tell by the massive fucking puddle under his ass that it’s not far off.

Stupid fucking Alp- Flambae. Who does he think he is? Looking like that, smelling like that.

Why is his scent affecting him now?

That wonderful, toasty cinnamon. There’s other spices mixed in too, one’s Robert has a hard time identifying but he knows he loves them all the same.

‘Loves?’ He thinks, ‘Man, get it together.’

Despite his thoughts, he shoves two fingers into himself as his mind gets a little hazier.

“Mmn, fuck,” It’s not enough, his fingers are never enough but it’s all he has the energy for right now. He spreads himself apart and he can’t help but imagine that’s it’s someone else’s fingers.

Would Chad be gentle with him? Or rough? Would he ask for permission before coming into his nest or would he barge in, flip him over and just take what he wants?

Robert gasps as another wave of slick rushes out of him, wetting his fingers even further.

Both, fuck, he needs both. Why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he follow him home?

He can’t help himself, shoving his fingers deeper at the thought of Chad being here, peeling off his stupid suit to shove into the folds of his nest. To keep his scent there. To protect him.

Maybe he’d yank his hand away, pin his arms above his head to keep him from touching himself. He’d tease him, definitely, rubbing his fat Alpha cock through the mess between his legs before finally-

“I know you’re fucking home, bitch, open up,” Chad’s voice floats through the curtains hanging up in front of his sliding glass door.

Robert freezes, fingers stilling. He’s not sure if Chad’s voice is his heat talking or not, making him imagine things that aren’t there.

He waits, frozen, fingers cramping inside him.

“Motherfu- I know you’re home, where the hell else do you go? Work and home that’s it, c’mon,” Chad bangs a fist against the glass door, rattling it.

He’s momentarily snapped out of whatever heat induced fantasy he was having, sitting up with a huff.

“What’re you doing here?” Robert asks, looking around his nest for something to cover himself with - he doesn’t find anything except a t-shirt he had swiped from the locker rooms after hours. It may or may not belong to the man on the other side of the door.

“Fuck me,” Robert grumbles, using it to clean off his fingers.

Chad’s gone quiet on the balcony. The only indication that he’s still there is that Robert can see the shadow the light of the moon is creating through the curtains.

“Chad?” He tries again, and he hears the Alpha huff in response.

“I just- Look, I just brought you some shit, no big deal, so if you could fucking let me in-“

“You what?”

Chad makes a noise that’s a combination of a growl and choking on his own spit.

“I brought you the fucking end of shift report you wanted.” Chad all but growls out through gritted teeth.

Robert wants to laugh. He really does, but he just ends up staring at Chad’s form, dumbfounded.

“You’re serious?”

The smell of black pepper - strong, mixed with burnt cedar wood assaults his nose as Chad rips open the glass door so violently it breaks the lock, the man furiously stumbling to his apartment.

He barely has time to scramble back against his mattress and shove the t-shirt between his legs.

“Fuck you! You know what? I don’t know why I even bother,” Chad hisses, pushing through his cheap curtain, dressed down in his civvies. His hair is down, black tank top and ripped jeans. He’s holding two plastic grocery bags, one in each hand. “You obviously don’t appreciate someone going out of their way for you, so I’ll just fucking-“

Chad stops, nostrils flaring as he finally makes eye contact with him.

Completely naked, on his bed.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, Chad loosening his grip on the bags.

“That’s a shitty fucking nest.”

Robert is, well, offended is probably what he should be. But he knows that a single mattress on the floor of his very tiny, still very unfurnished apartment is…kind of sad.

But it works, so.

“So?” He says, tilting his head to the side. He blames the next words out of his mouth completely on the fact that his heat is almost here. “It’s never stopped anyone before.”

The black pepper is back, stronger than before. It tickles the back of his nose but there’s another smell that Robert’s never had the pleasure of smelling from the man - fresh ginger, spicy and cloying.

Is Chad…jealous?

The Omega sitting in the back of his mind wants to purr at the idea.

“Oh, is that so?” Chad’s teeth are gritted together, and he tightly moves across the room to set the bags on the counter. He’s trying really hard not to look at him. “Didn’t know your standards were so low.”

“And what would you know about my standards?” It comes out breathier than he intended, and he watches Chad’s body react.

Chad closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself but all he does is take a big inhale of all the pheromones radiating off of Robert’s body.

He sets his hands on the counter, bowing his head as he mutters something under his breath. It gives Robert a great view of the bulging muscles in his arms and the veins that he wants to trace with his tongue.

Robert knows he doesn’t have a whole lot of time left, especially with how much cinnamon and clove is starting to circulate in the air.

It’s driving him fucking crazy.

“Chad,” His voice is like a siren call, Chad’s head snapping up at the sound of his own name. His voice is wrecked, breath coming in short pants. “If you’re gonna go, then go. But,” Robert whines, spreading his legs apart and tugging the shirt away from his core.

Chad’s glowing eyes follow his every moment, body slowly moving away from the counter like a predator.

Milky vanilla blends seamlessly with cinnamon, clove and star anise. Deep espresso and fragrant firewood.

“But I want you to stay,” Robert whispers, sweat dripping down his body as he leans back on his hands, showing his body off. “Please, Alpha?”

!Alpha Flambae and !Omega Robert (but Flambae doesn’t know that)

…

It happens in the bullpen, because of course it does.

“Flambae, I’d like your end of shift report any day now,” Robert drawls, sat in his little cubicle at the end of the day. He’s hunched over his desk, pen flying over what Flambae assumes is everyone else’s report.

Flambae huffs, sensitive Alpha pride sparking in his chest. He had hoped if he sped walked fast enough past the nosey Beta’s desk he wouldn’t have noticed him at all - God know’s Robert’s been known to have a one-track mind when it comes to paperwork. He doesn’t feel like writing down his last two failed missions and hearing the man gripe at him for it.

“No need to be such a snippy bitch,” Flambae snaps at him, leaning an arm against Robert’s cubicle, “I’ll get it to you tomorrow, fucking chill.”

Coffee; stale and dry like the brew has been sitting out all day hits the back of his throat. It’s Robert shitty default around the office, but it shifts suddenly - burnt and sharp against his tongue.

“Lazy doesn’t suit you. It takes like five minutes to fill out-“

“Lazy?!” Flambae doesn’t feel bad raising his voice; they’re the last two left in the office, the overhead lights dimmed dark. Not even Beef, the little rotund vacuum cleaner is in his plush little bed. “Right, the man who chooses to sit in a fucking chair all day calling me lazy.”

Robert, surprisingly, doesn’t take the bait. It honestly disappoints him a bit; one of his favorite past times is riling Robert up. Not that he’d ever admit it out-loud, but Robert could give it back to him just as much as he gave. He’s more than a little addicted to it; the way Robert’s scent is so easy to read in their back and forths.

Not that he like’s his boring Beta smell or anything.

“Fine, just,” Robert sighs, rolling his head from side to side as he pushes the stack of papers he’s working on away from him. His voice is softer than before, a soft little rumble that Flambae’s never heard before. It almost sounds like…purring? But that can’t be right, Beta’s can’t purr.

“Just get it to me first thing in the morning, okay? I’ve gotta go,” Robert stands, quickly trying to shove his things in his backpack, tosses his headphones onto his desk in a hurry.

Flambae can feel his scent spike; black pepper taking over momentarily at being dismissed. “That’s it? The fucks wrong with you?”

Robert shoulders past him, coughing slightly, avoiding eye contact with him. “I just need to get home, not everything’s about you.”

Flambae barks out a laugh, hand outstretched to yank him by his stupid blue shirt, but a different scent hits him square in the face, halting his hand in mid-air.

Sweet vanilla. The smell of coffee is still present, telling Flambae that it’s definitely coming from Robert, but it’s…different. Addicting. It hits the back of his throat, and his mouth fills with saliva against his will, long Alpha fangs pricking his bottom lip so suddenly it shocks him.

It’s like drinking the most expensive blend of coffee he’s ever had, the creamiest vanilla foam with the perfect amount of sweetness.

It’s…it’s so perfect.

He’s not…he’s not sure what to do with this.

Robert’s frozen in the hallway, back turned to him with his shoulders raised up to his ears. The minute Robert cautiously turns his head to look at him - brown eyes wide like saucers - Flambae’s scent responds to him without meaning to.

Warm cinnamon floats in the air around them, spicy star anise dancing with the vanilla latte that’s filling up the space.

Flambae’s eyes are fixed on him, refusing to look away as Robert inhales slowly, carefully. He doesn’t dare move, but Flambae catches the way Robert’s eyes dilate, the way his breathe comes quicker than before.

The way his scent sweetens even further.

Reciprocation.

Understanding dawns on Flambae, whose hand is still outstretched, frozen in between them.

Robert isn’t a Beta.

He’s an Omega.

And apparently, his perfect scent match.

Robert smells like coffee - but specifically like fresh espresso and then it’ll shift based on his mood. Smell bitter and sour when he’s upset, freshly pulled and energetic when he’s in a good mood.

He always smells like a sweet vanilla latte around Flambae, and Flambae hasn’t really figured out why yet.

Flambae smells like toasted spices -warm, toasted cinnamon, star anise and black pepper. I like the idea that the pepper will get stronger when he’s upset and it makes people sneeze (lol). His scent will grow warmer and more comforting around Robert and the other man isn’t quite sure why he doesn’t sneeze as much anymore.