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Po hates soft heats.
Absolutely despise them.
Unlike actual heats, soft heats had nothing to do with uncontrollable, animalistic arousal. They didn’t come every six months either, they came every month like a curse.
For most omegas, soft heats were manageable, even comforting. They become more sensitive to touch and scent, craving soft blankets, plushies, warmth, and most of all, the presence of their alphas. There were mood swings, sure, but the good usually outweighed the bad. It was painted as something gentle and sweet.
That was not the case for Po.
His mental state during soft heats was extreme. Everything feels too loud, too sharp and just too much. He becomes emotional, painfully sensitive to everything.
Every fucking thing.
His emotions heighten until even small, harmless moments feel overwhelming. Things he could normally brush off suddenly hurt, and when he’s upset, he doesn’t know how to interact with people at all. He says things he doesn’t mean. He goes quiet, nearly nonverbal, not because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t know how to untangle the mess of feelings inside his head.
That silence causes misunderstandings. Even when he wasn’t mad, it looked like he was. He didn’t speak much, didn’t explain himself well, and his expression never helped. Over time, roommates and friends started pulling away, labeling him “rude” or “unbearable” during those periods.
Po spent his soft heats overthinking, crying, feeling angry, then drowning in guilt for feeling angry in the first place. And once it passed, shame settled in so deeply that he never explained himself afterward.
He knew his soft heats were the problem. He always knew because once they passed, the relief hit him all at once, like chains falling off his chest. Like he could finally breathe again. He’d lived with them for years, learned how to endure them, convinced himself they weren’t that bad.
That was before Earn.
Earn hated his soft heats.
After one especially rough cycle, one that ended in raised voices, Po’s tears, and an almost breakup, Po finally explained himself. He laid it all out. All of the emotions, the silence, the way his mind turns against him. Earn listened, then looked down at him with an annoyed sneer that burned deeper than the shouting ever had.
“I don’t want to walk on eggshells around you every month, Po. Fix it. Fix yourself. This isn’t normal.”
And just like that, everything went back to ‘normal.’
After that, every soft heat followed the same pattern. Po would go quiet but loud in his own mind, and Earn would take that as permission to ignore him. It was his solution, apparently. Maybe he thought distance would make it easier. Instead, it crushed Po. Because even when his emotions were spiraling, his omega instincts were still there, aching just as badly.
He still wanted soft blankets and plushies.
He still needed his alpha’s scent surrounding him.
He still craved gentle attention, warmth and reassurance. It was everything his omega was wired to need.
Earn’s solution didn’t fix anything. It pushed Po into deeper, darker depressive states with every soft heat.
He started watching other omegas and wondering why it seemed so easy for them. They wanted cuddles, affection, closeness and they got it. Their alphas doted on them, spoiled them, held them through it all.
The jealousy made him feel sick.
So, when he breaks up with Earn and later ends up with Thame, he isn’t excited about someone new.
He’s terrified.
He’s scared that Thame will look at him the same way. That one day, he’ll decide Po is too much, just like Earn did.
Po knows it isn’t fair to compare them. Thame isn’t Earn, and even thinking it feels insulting towards his alpha.
But Po knows himself.
He’s too much.
He needs too much.
He’s too hard to handle.
And one day, Thame will get tired of him.
When that happens, Po already knows he won’t blame him at all.
Because Po knows himself.
Po wakes up already uncomfortable.
Thame’s arms are wrapped around him from behind, the alpha’s face tucked into the curve of his neck. Normally, Po loves waking up like this. Sometimes it even brings happy tears to his eyes.
But today, he hates it.
There’s a dull ache in his joints from working nonstop for fifteen hours the day before. Sunlight spills directly onto his face and it’s too bright and too warm because Thame forgot to close the blinds, even after Po had sleepily reminded him last night. Thame’s breath is hot against his skin, each exhale making Po more aware of how trapped he feels.
The alarm will ring in a few minutes. Po doesn’t want to move to turn it off. He could ask Thame, but that would mean the alpha reaching over him, crowding him even more and that’s the last thing Po wants right now.
Too many things are happening inside his head at once.
His breathing picks up. His palms start to sweat. The comforting weight of Thame behind him slowly turns unbearable, like pressure building where there’s no room to escape.
“Why are you so tense?” Thame mumbles against his skin, voice still heavy with sleep.
The words snap something in Po’s mind.
‘Why are you like that?!’
“I told you to close the blinds last night, Thame.” His voice comes out sharper than he means it to.
“Oh.” Thame pulls back slightly. “Sorry about that” He says sheepishly.
The space should help. It doesn’t.
Annoyance floods Po’s chest, sudden and intense. He takes a shuddering breath, trying and failing to calm himself.
The alarm blares.
Po jerks away at the sound, yanking himself out of bed to shut it off. His movements are rushed, almost frantic.
“Hey.” Thame calls after him, playful but confused. “Where’s my morning kiss?”
Po pauses. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, no words forming. There is only that tight, awful feeling in his chest.
Instead of answering, he steps into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.
“P’Po, you okay?” Thame knocks on the door, his voice a little tense, a little guarded.
Po is sitting on the toilet seat, head lowered in defeat. His leg is shaking nonstop, his skin crawling.
“Yeah! I’ll be out in a minute.” Po says, forcing his voice to sound as normal as possible. It must work, because Thame replies immediately.
“Okay, I’ll get started with breakfast!” Thame chirps, and Po hears him walk away.
Po stops moving.
He’s being stupid. He knows he’s sensitive right now because of his soft heat. He can do better. He can pretend the world isn’t closing in on him. He can remember how things usually are and act like that instead.
He can do this.
He has to do this to keep Thame.
“Let’s have the day in today, relax, and then tomorrow we can go all out.” Thame says as soon as Po enters the kitchen. The alpha doesn’t even look up from the coffee machine as he speaks. “Nano invited us to the My Moon and Wolf bar tomorrow, like around ten. We can do all kinds of fun stuff before that. Remember that ice rink I was telling you about? We can go there, have dinner later, then head to the bar.”
Po shudders out a breath as Thame rambles. There are too many words. The sound of the coffee machine, the way Thame isn’t looking at him and his left shoulder feels tight. Too many plans… too muc-
“What do you think?” Thame turns to look at him.
Po takes a moment. He wants to shout, to sneer at Thame for not remembering how much he hates that bar. Hates the beaming lights, the overwhelming scents, the bouncer that looks scar-
“P’Po?” Thame raises his brows.
Normal, Po reminds himself. What would he normally say?
“Okay.” Po nods briefly and looks down at his hands.
“Okay!” Thame says happily, already turning back to the coffee machine.
Po lets out a breath as tears well in his eyes. He had been looking forward to this weekend, a small pocket of time between their packed schedules. Now he’ll spend it wobbling on a stupid ice rink and sweating in an overstimulating bar.
He blinks the tears away as Thame steps closer to hand him his coffee. Po watches through his lashes as Thame pauses and sniffs the air.
Shit. His scent might be going stale.
“You okay, baby?” Thame sets the coffee on the island and steps in behind him.
Po braces himself for the skin contact he knows is coming.
Thame presses his body to Po’s back and kisses the side of his neck.
Po pauses and thinks, it isn’t as bad as he thought.
Everything is still too much: the plans, the aches, Thame not understanding him- but-
Po leans back slightly, resting his head on Thame’s shoulder.
“Here you are.” Thame mumbles into his hair, nosing at Po’s ear, then his neck. “Missed you.”
“Missed you.” Po parrots, emotion slipping into his voice.
Gosh. He loves him so much.
They eat breakfast on the balcony, and after Po clears the plates, he comes back. Instead of going to his own mini sofa, he climbs into Thame’s lap.
“Baby.” Thame sighs happily as Po settles on top of him. “You smell lovely.”
Po smiles. Soft heats always make his scent a little sweeter.
He gathers all the courage he can muster and speaks.
“It’s my soft heat.” He murmurs against Thame’s neck.
“Ooo, lucky me.” Thame replies without thought, lazily breathing him in.
The response leaves Po uncertain.
Telling Thame took more courage than it should have, the memory of Earn still in the back of his mind. He doesn’t know if he wanted Thame to be careful or to stay like this, easy and unaffected, as if nothing is wrong at all.
Now he’s stuck between two decisions.
Should he tell Thame about his tendencies?
Or should he try to act normal?
He knows Thame has noticed his quietness. Noticed how Po barely talked all morning, how even during breakfast, when their time is usually filled with gentle touches and easy banter, Po had stayed quiet.
Thame didn’t point it out.
So… Po decides to act normal.
Po cringes when Thame starts kissing his neck, soft and chaste.
He is enjoying the alpha’s weight on top of him as they laze on the couch with a series playing in the background. He enjoys the steady release of Thame’s comforting pheromones, the way his omega preens under the gentle attention.
His body is boneless against the cushions, his scent sweet and inviting. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange at all for Thame to start grinding against him.
But it is strange for Po to not want it right now.
An omega’s libido is usually fairly unaffected during soft heats.
Po is different.
He wants all the gentle touches and none of the sexual ones.
Earn had been indifferent to that. If Earn wanted sex, he made it clear, guilted Po into compliance. Whenever Po tried to refuse, Earn would pin him with a glare until Po opened his legs for him.
Po doesn’t want to see that look on Thame’s face.
He can bear this.
Yeah.
He loves sex with Thame.
Even though his body wants to recoil under Thame’s kisses, Po normally loves being with him like this. So he can bear it.
He will bear it.
Thame slides his shirt up and trails kisses over his chest until his mouth closes around a nipple.
Po bites back a gasp as a sharp, zinging sensation shoots through him. His nipples are sensitive, too sensitive. They always are during times like this.
But Thame loves this. Loves playing with them when he fingers him, when he fucks him.
Po can’t take that away from him, so he stays quiet.
“Taste so good, baby.” Thame mumbles against the flushed skin as his hands work Po’s pajama bottoms down.
“Mm.” Po hums in relief when Thame finally pulls away from his nipple and starts kissing lower instead.
He takes a few deep breaths, in and out, and forces himself to believe he wants this just as much as Thame does.
He wants this.
He wants this.
He wants this.
Thame takes him into his mouth, hands prying his legs apart. Po grits his teeth as his knees are pressed to his chest, leaving his hole exposed. Thame focuses on his growing hard cock while one hand slides back, rubbing against his slightly slick hole.
Normally, Po would be panting by now, moaning, leaking slick over Thame’s fingers.
I can do this, Po tells himself.
After a deep breath, he pulls Thame up, leaning forward to kiss him. He reaches for Thame’s hand and brings his fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them.
“Fuck, baby.” Thame mutters as Po tastes his own slick.
Po’s main goal is to lubricate Thame’s fingers without letting him notice how little he’s actually producing.
When Po releases his fingers, Thame immediately presses them back to his hole. Po closes his eyes, trying to ignore the discomfort blooming deep in his gut.
He feels suffocated.
All he can focus on are the fingers inside him, Thame’s heavy breathing against his cheek, his own flagging erection and the fear of disappointing his alpha.
He wants everything to stop.
He wants to go back to cuddling, to mindlessly watching TV like nothing is wrong. But he also wants his alpha to be happy and to be satisfied.
So when Thame pushes a third finger inside him, Po bites down on his lower lip hard, trapping the sound before it can escape.
“So tight for me, baby.” Thame mumbled and fucks him harder with his fingers.
Po lets out a shaky breath and meets Thame’s gaze. The alpha’s eyes are dark with heat, his scent thick with arousal, and it stirs something conflicted inside Po.
Tears of discomfort well despite his efforts to stop them. He can tell that Thame mistakes them for tears of pleasure.
“Ready for me, baby?” Thame asks softly as his fingers slip free.
“Hm hm.” Po nods, a small sound leaving him as he clenches his jaw to keep from breaking.
Thame presses his soft lips to his trembling ones as the thick cock probes his hole. The pressure builds slowly, then steadily, until he’s pushing inside inch by inch, their hips finally meeting. Thame starts to move, slow at first, setting a careful rhythm.
Po exhales sharply, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He can’t stop the small, broken sounds that slip out with whimpers edged with pain. Thame had prepared him, taken his time, made sure he was loose enough.
Still, the discomfort burns.
Thame stills.
He looks down at Po, flushed and suddenly uncertain.
“Does it hurt?” Thame pants.
Po tries to swallow the sob climbing up his throat, forces himself to answer.
“N-no.” He manages but then the tears spill anyway. His chest heaves as his hand comes up, pressed to his mouth.
Thame freezes, his expression twisting into panic.
“P’Po.” Thame gasps, and Po feels him pull back, his cock slipping out. Po gasps too, this time in relief. “Shit.” Thame sits back on the couch, his hands hovering, unsure of where to go.
Po hiccups harshly as he tries to calm himself. “I’m-” He sucks in a breath. “I’m okay.” He says, wiping at his tears furiously. He can’t stand the look on Thame’s face. “I’m fine.” He repeats, forcing another deep breath, trying to make his body relax.
“What’s wrong?” Thame asks, his voice shaky.
Po’s heart sinks.
“N-nothing! I’m okay- I’m sorry, let’s continue.” His whole body is trembling, but he forces his legs open anyway. It doesn’t help. His cock has gone completely soft.
“No- Phi.” Thame shakes his head. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” He pleads.
Po’s stomach drops.
What a fucking failure he is.
He can’t tell Thame about his soft heat symptoms. It would put him off. It would change everything.
But when he looks at Thame’s insistent expression, panic floods his chest. His breathing speeds up, his thoughts dissolving into fear.
The only thing he wants right now is-
Po bolts from the couch and runs, escaping into the bathroom.
Po is sobbing on the bathroom floor, his back pressed against the bathtub. Thame is at the door, knocking and calling out to him, worry thick in his voice. It only makes Po feel sicker than he already does.
“P’Po, please.”
Po pulls his hand away from his mouth so he can speak.
“I’m okay!” He says loudly. “Just… a little overwhelmed.” He forces his voice to sound normal, steady.
“No, you’re not okay!” Thame says, voice strained. “Your scent-” He cuts himself off, upset. “Your scent is filled with fear-”
Po is exhausted. He knows his hormones are messing with his head, with his judgment, but he doesn’t know what to do anymore.
“Thame.” He pleads softly. “Please.”
There’s a pause.
“Are you scared of me?” Thame asks, his voice breaking at the end. “Do you want me to leave?”
No.
That’s the last thing Po wants.
His omega would spiral without Thame’s presence. He’d think Thame had abandoned him.
“No, please.” Po says quickly. “Don’t leave.”
“Okay.” Thame breathes out. “Can you please open the door, baby?” The handle rattles gently. “Can I please hug you?”
Thame wants to hug him.
Po drags himself forward, his hands shaking as he unlocks the door.
Thame is wearing his pajama bottoms now, no longer naked like Po is.
The first thing the alpha does is grab the robe nearby and wrap it carefully around Po’s trembling body.
“That’s it.” Thame gathers him into his arms and presses Po’s face against his scent gland. “You’re okay, baby.”
Po gulps in his alpha’s scent desperately, clinging to it as he tries to calm himself.
“I’m sorry.” Po says once his breathing finally steadies.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” Thame says firmly into his hair. “Let’s get you to bed?” He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at Po’s red, blotchy face.
“Wait- I want to rinse off.” Po runs nervous fingers through his hair. “I feel uncomfortable.” He admits hesitantly.
The slick between his cheeks has gone tacky, and the sweat on his skin makes everything worse.
“Okay.” Thame says immediately, without hesitation. He helps Po to his feet, then pauses. “Is it okay if I help you?” he asks, hand hovering as he considers removing the robe.
“Yes, please.” Po whispers, eyes fixed on the floor, shame heavy in his chest.
“Okay.” Thame breathes out softly and presses a light kiss to Po’s shoulder.
He turns on the shower, checking until the water is warm. Po flinches at the thought of being touched while naked, an irrational fear creeping in, that this might turn sexual, that it might go wrong again.
But it doesn’t.
Thame helps him wash slowly, carefully, cleaning every inch of him with gentle hands. Even when the loofah moves between Po’s legs, the touch stays innocent and kind. Thame doesn’t linger the way he used to.
Thame gently slips a clean robe over Po’s body, it’s the alpha’s. hums softly as he breathes in the familiar, comforting scent clinging to the fluffy fabric. Thame leads them to the bedroom, sits Po down on the bed, and starts drying his hair.
Now that everything is calm and eerily quiet, and Po’s mind finally has room to think, he starts replaying the last hour.
He’s the worst.
Thame must already be tired of taking care of him like a child. Maybe he’s starting to realize how much work Po is. Soft heats are supposed to bring an omega and alpha closer but Po has to be difficult. Complicated.
He doesn’t even realize that quiet tears are slipping down his cheeks until he feels Thame’s thumbs gently brushing them away.
Po opens his eyes to find Thame kneeling in front of him, so they’re level.
“Hate seeing you so sad.” Thame whispers, pressing soft kisses where the tears have fallen.
The tenderness almost breaks Po. Every feather-light kiss against his sensitive skin makes it harder to keep the sobs inside.
Thame deserves so much better.
“Can you tell me now, baby?” Thame murmurs, stopping only to wipe his tears again. “What’s wrong?”
“I-it’s my soft heat.” Po breathes out, gripping Thame’s hands tighter in his own. “It messes with my brain. I don’t- I don’t feel like myself. I can barely function without losing my mind.” He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Lose your mind how?” Thame asks gently, pressing a kiss to Po’s knuckles.
“It’s like-” Po opens his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. “I overthink everything. The things I normally love, like waking up with you all over me, I hate them. But at the same time, I want you as close to me as possible.” He shakes his head. “I know I’m not making any sense.”
“You’re making plenty of sense, baby.” Thame says encouragingly. Then he hesitates. “What about before?” A pause. “When we were… having sex?”
“I-” Po sucks in a sharp breath.
Should he say it?
Tell him that sex feels like torture during his soft heats?
It’s impossible to lie when Thame is looking at him like that.
“I hate it.” Po says quietly. “I hate anything sexual during my soft heats.” He looks up through his lashes, watching for Thame’s reaction.
The alpha goes still. Shock flickers across his face, and the thumb that had been gently stroking Po’s hand stops.
Panic floods Po’s chest.
“But- but we can still do it.” He rushes out. “It’s not like- you don’t have to be punished because of me.” He shakes his head frantically. “You can still fuck me, I just- wouldn’t really be in it, but it’s okay.”
He knows he’s making it worse by the way Thame slowly pulls his hands away and leans back on his heels, leaving Po cold and exposed.
“Um.” Thame tries to speak, then stops, thinking.
Po nervously picks at the calloused skin around his cuticles- a habit he thought he’d left behind with Earn.
“Why would you- why didn’t you stop me?” Thame finally looks up at Po. “No-it’s-it’s my fault.” He buries his face in his hands. “I noticed something was wrong, but I didn’t- I’m sorry.”
“No.” Po shakes his head frantically. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He kneels in front of Thame and cups his face, tilting it up. “You didn’t.”
“You had a panic attack.” Thame says, voice shaking. “You said you hate sex- so why did we- P’Po…” His eyes fill with tears. “I- I raped you.”
No.
“No!” Po shouts. “Why would you say that? You didn’t rape me- that’s ridiculous!”
“It feels like I did.” Thame says quietly, dropping his head. “You didn’t want it.”
“But- but I consented.” Po insists, making Thame look at him again with his hands still on his face. “Please take that thought out of your head. You didn’t force me. You didn’t rape me.” His voice softens. “I just… I wanted it and didn’t want it at the same time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Thame asks, his voice broken.
“Because I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Po sighs. “I’m already too much to handle, and with my soft heats- I become unbearable.”
“What?” Thame pulls back, horror flooding his expression. “What do you mean too much? Have I ever given you that impression?”
“No- but that’s because you’re too kind.” Po sits back and pulls his legs to his chest. “Everyone I’ve been with… all of my friends… they leave me because I’m too much. I’m too sensitive. People have to walk on eggshells around me.” He buries his face against his knees. “I didn’t want you to see that part of me. I didn’t want you to get tired of me.” His last words come out shaky, barely holding together.
“Phi.” Thame says, voice wavering, before visibly steadying himself. “You are not too much. I will never get tired of you.” He shuffles closer. “Do you understand?” He insists, cupping Po’s face and lifting it gently. “Hm?”
“I’m sorry, but-I can’t-I don’t.” Po whispers. “I want to believe you. I really do.” He hiccups. “I don’t want to question every little thing I do. I don’t want my head to be such a mess. But I don’t know how to be anything else.” His voice cracks. “I want to be free of this. I’m so, so tired, Thame.” He looks away. “I’m trying to be better. I promise.”
“You don’t need to be better, baby.” Thame says, his voice breaking. “You’re already perfect.”
Po looks up as tears spill from Thame’s eyes, slipping down his cheeks.
“Don’t cry.” Po murmurs, wiping them away.
“I hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.” Thame says softly, tilting his head to kiss Po’s hand.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Thame says instantly. He takes a deep breath, then grips both of Po’s hands tightly in his own. “Will you believe me if I say that all those thoughts in your head-about being a mess and too much to handle-aren’t true?”
“N-no.” Po admits quietly and ashamed.
“Then please believe this instead.” Thame says desperately. “That I love you anyway. That I will always love you.” He presses kisses to Po’s hands, again and again. “Love yourself for me. Please.”
Po doesn’t answer.
“Please.
But he doesn’t pull away either.
“Please.”