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The day after his 30th birthday, Gris has the day off, which is something he’s immensely grateful for, considering he doesn’t crawl out of bed until noon due to his killer hangover. Last night, Semiu and Enjin pushed so many shots at him, all in the name of ‘celebration’. While it had been fun in the moment, Gris doubts his liver could handle something like that again.
Before they left for the bar, the Cleaners threw him a party in the lounge, and it was a nice surprise, even though he saw it coming, considering Enjin kept finding any excuse to keep him out of HQ all day yesterday. Now, he’s hoping to go to town to pick up some parts for one of the Cleaner cars, then spend the rest of his day in the garage until dinner, where he might end up playing cards with Enjin and Bro. Though it sounded fairly boring to anybody else, that’s Gris’s idea of a perfect, relaxing day.
After taking some hangover medication, he exits his room and starts down the hall to the garage. He hears humming from down the hall and is not at all surprised when Tamsy comes around the corner. Throughout all of Gris’s time at the Cleaners, he doesn’t think there’s been any moment where Tamsy hasn’t hummed to himself at least once a mission, or if at HQ, once a day. The guy clearly loves music. Gris gives him a friendly wave and a small smile, and Tamsy smiles back, but his nose wrinkles as he approaches. Tamsy stops walking and stares, so Gris stops and stares back.
“Hm,” Tamsy hums, the smile on his face getting oddly wider. “Since I didn’t say so directly, happy birthday. You’re in for a surprise.”
At that, he walks off, leaving no room for Gris to even respond with a ‘thank you’. Gris watches him walk all the way down the hall and out of sight as he rounds another corner, humming starting up again. What an odd guy, but in Gris’s experience, most Givers are pretty odd people…and they often have weird smiles too.
Gris keeps walking, albeit slower than before, as he thinks about what Tamsy just said. A surprise could be anything from a super disastrous emergency or Enjin wrecking a Cleaner car (again). Gris hopes it’s nothing serious, though from the way Tamsy said it, it seems like everything is fine. Maybe they got him another surprise for his birthday? He seriously doubts that the Cleaners are that thoughtful, even though he’s sort of popular around HQ.
He gets to the lobby to see Semiu flipping through another one of her porn magazines.
“Hey,” Gris greets, stopping to stand in front of her desk. “I’m heading into town. Do you want anything?”
Semiu looks up from her magazine, opening her mouth to no doubt say ‘the newest edition of Playboy’, but stops short as she sniffs the air. She gives him a look.
“Did you get lucky last night?”
Gris blinks a few times before drawing out, “No.”
Not that he would’ve been against it, but he was plastered, and Enjin tends to steal the spotlight in that sort of way.
“You smell like someone else, though,” Semiu mutters, staring at him for a few more seconds before shrugging. “Whatever. Get me the newest edition of Playboy.”
“One day,” Gris shakes his head as he starts to walk away, “I hope you ask for something other than porn.”
Semiu huffs. “What else do I need?”
Gris doesn’t dignify that question with a response. While it was awkward to buy considering it wasn’t for him, Semiu couldn’t often be away from her desk, and everybody had their vices.
The drive to town is peaceful, and Gris doesn’t often admit it, but he misses driving just for fun. When he was younger, drag racing used to be his favorite pastime. Or, the circuit competitions where the winner takes all. There’s nothing more he used to love than hearing the wind whip past the car, the engine revving as he put his foot to the pedal…
Oh, to be young.
By the time Gris arrives, he starts to feel a little hot as he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. It was the end of June, which means it was only going to get hotter from here. He picks up the parts from the auto shop, chatting with the owner, Dyne, for a few minutes before he excuses himself. It’s really too hot to be talking outside for long. He needs to get back to the AC-cooled inside of HQ. On his way back to the car, he quickly picks up Semiu’s porn mag before booking it to the car and speeding all the way back.
As he steps out of the car, he sighs. The cool air of the garage feels so good on his skin. The heat outside had made him start to sweat, and his shirt’s now partially soaked. Due to his shirt being gray, the sweat is visible and embarrassing. He tells himself that he’ll quickly drop off Semiu’s stuff before going to his room to change, then setting to work in the garage. Or maybe, he’ll take a nap first. He didn’t really notice at first, but he can feel his back cramping now that he’s standing up. And his stomach, too, oddly enough. Gritting his teeth, he starts walking towards the lobby.
Was this a punishment for not acting his age and getting drunk last night? Or for stuffing himself with three slices of cake? Or for turning 30 and still pushing his body like he was 22?
Semiu’s looking at him once he enters the lobby, and from her face, it looks like she’s surprised to see him. He gives her a small smile, dropping her magazine in front of her.
“Here you go.”
Semiu simply blinks at him, and Gris is starting to think all the sweat is making him smell bad, when Semiu activates her powers, her glasses starting to glow.
Gris takes a step back.
“Semiu?”
Her eyes go wide, before her power deactivates. She stands up.
“You should go to the infirmary.”
Gris’s eyes go wide. “Why? What did you see?”
Did he suddenly have a life-ending disease? Did his back and stomach pain forebode something much worse than just typical signs of aging in overworked men?
Semiu picks up her new magazine as she comes around the desk, pointing to the sweat stains on his shirt.
“You have a fever.”
“Oh,” Gris says, tugging on his shirt to look down on the stains before letting go. “It’s just hot outside.”
Semiu opens her mouth, but Gris continues, “And, no offense, but I think I need a nap right now.”
Usually, he wouldn’t be so rude as to speak twice, but the drive and the heat must’ve tuckered him out. If he’s lucky, he’ll wake up with some time to spare to work in the garage.
Semiu holds up a hand. “I just need Eishia to check something for me. Once that’s done, you can go. It won’t take long.”
Gris acquiesces with a simple nod, and they both start on their way to the infirmary, Semiu tapping a finger to her choker to ask Eishia for a few minutes of her time. With each step, Gris grows more worried. For Semiu to see something in her glasses and think he needs to go to the infirmary…
Gris can only hope that it’s something as simple as a fever, so he can take some medicine and lie down.
Eishia’s already at the infirmary when they enter. She sniffs quietly, and her eyebrows raise as they approach her.
“Hey Eishia, thanks for coming. Um, Semiu thinks—”
“He’s going into heat,” Semiu interrupts, closing the door behind them.
Gris whips his head around to look at Semiu.
“What?”
Semiu simply purses her lips. “You should take a seat.”
“No, I—heat?” Gris shakes his head, a light chuckle on his lips. “Semiu, what are you talking about?”
Semiu takes a seat on one of the stools next to an infirmary bed, eyes trained on him. “When I looked at you, your designation had changed…to an omega.”
Gris blinks. He knew Semiu had the ability to see designations, but since when did people’s designation change? Since when did 30-year-olds present?
In his silence, Semiu says. “Eishia?”
Gris turns to Eishia, whose face has turned red as she wrings her hands together.
“Gris, I-I think Semiu’s right,” Eisha whispers, eyes on the floor. “You smell like an omega that’s—that’s—”
“It’s just a fever!”
“W-well, are you feeling any back pain? Or stomach pain too?”
Gris’s silence answers for him.
Semiu starts from his right. “Gris, I know this is—”
“Just wait,” Gris opens his eyes, before taking a seat on the infirmary bed near Semiu. His back’s really starting to hurt.
He counted to ten, opened his eyes, and was still in the same predicament. Gris knows that the universe often likes to teach him a lesson, but what possible lesson could he learn from this other than how to deal with ungodly amounts of embarrassment? Presenting the day after his 30th birthday?
What a sick joke.
Gris considers himself to be a pretty sensible, down-to-earth guy, but he’s not ready to believe it just yet. Usually, he takes whatever Eishia says as gospel, but he’s not ready to accept this. Not yet. Presentation means heats, and smells, and alphas, and a whole world Gris enjoys not being familiar with. And at his age, what was the point of it all?
Semiu and Eishia are looking at each other, clearly concerned. Gris takes a deep breath, and with that breath comes an idea.
“No offense, Eishia, Semiu,” Gris starts as he brings his hand to his Choker,“but I want another opinion.”
“What?” Semiu stands up, reaching for his hand, but it’s too late.
Eishia only takes a step closer as Gris says, “Yo, Enjin.”
Semiu makes a hissing sound, bringing her hand to her face. Eishia’s face is going red, and she looks like she’s holding back from saying something…or breathing in general.
Enjin’s voice comes through clearly. “What’s up?”
Just like Gris, Enjin had the day off, but had no doubt spent most of it in bed trying to sleep off his hangover.
“Can you come to the infirmary, real quick?”
“Are you alright? Is anyone hurt?”
“No, everything’s fine. Just need a second—well, third opinion.”
“On my way.”
As the call disconnects, Semiu smacks him on the shoulder. “You can’t invite an alpha in here. You’re going into heat!”
Gris grimaces, bringing a hand to rub his shoulder. “I’m still not 100% sure about that.”
Eishia shakes her head. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Gris.”
“It’ll be fine,” Gris waves a hand.
In the time it takes Enjin to arrive, the room is completely silent. Semiu, seemingly having given up on him, has decided to open up her latest reading material. Eishia is rummaging around in the backroom, and eventually, she comes out with a basket of supplies, no doubt for him. He catches the title of a book in a basket that reads ‘Your Omega and You’, and has to hold back a shudder.
Gris is antsy by the time the door opens, but once he sees Enjin standing fully in the doorway, it’s like all his problems dissolve. Enjin is his friend, who is sometimes sane. Enjin would no doubt tell him that Eishia and Semiu have it all wrong, that he smells just as boring as he did yesterday, and that it was a waste of time on his day off to come down here.
Enjin takes a deep sniff, straightening up as his eyes flash between all three of them. He ducks his head back into the hallway, checking for people, before closing the door some, leaving it ajar.
“One of you guys is going into heat,” Enjin frowns, shifting on his feet like he’s uncomfortable. “Why’d you call me?”
Semiu points at Gris. “He called you because he’s going into heat.”
Enjin’s eyes move slowly from Semiu to Gris, then up to Eishia, who only nods vigorously.
Enjin cocks his head, no doubt curious, before walking up to Gris, who stands to meet him. For a moment, they simply stare at each other, and Gris is going to ask if it’s true, if he’s not dreaming, when Enjin leans his head forward to take a deep inhale close to his neck.
Gris tenses up, on principle.
“Enjin, you don’t need to be that close.” Semiu admonishes, but she makes no move to push him away.
Nor does Gris. Usually, he would never let Enjin get this close—or anyone, really. He enjoys his personal space, but this is a matter of serious importance, so he bears it.
Or he tries to. At some point, Enjin’s nose touches his neck, and Gris’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, no doubt from the exertion it’s taking him to stand, considering how shitty his whole body feels. He pushes Enjin away by the shoulders, taking a seat as Enjin takes a step back.
“So?” Gris prods, his voice obviously full of hope.
A couple of seconds pass, then a shit-eating smile appears on Enjin’s face as he starts to laugh.
“Wow, Gris. You really did it this time.”
“Fuck,” Gris closes his eyes, groaning loudly as he puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t even bother counting to ten.
“Told ya,” Semiu voices from his left, and he can almost hear her shrug.
“How’d you swing it?” Enjin asks, and Gris can tell he still has that stupid grin on his face.
Not bothering to look up, Gris scowls into his hands. “What does that even mean?”
“I mean, you’re actually presenting at like, what, 35?”
At that, Gris raises his head and snaps, “You know what fucking age I am! You were at my party yesterday!”
Eishia comes between them, facing Enjin. “Enjin, you’re agitating him.”
Enjin opens his mouth, but his eyes meet Semiu’s, and he quickly closes it.
Once certain Enjin would keep his big mouth shut, Eishia brings him the basket of supplies and puts it in his lap.
Quietly, she instructs, “Y-You should go back to your room until th-the heat is over. I’ve packed you some water and some snacks.”
While all Gris wants inside is to throw all this stuff at the wall (or Enjin’s face) and scream FML, he has to appreciate the fact that Eishia has put up with his nonsense (and Enjin’s).
Gris sighs, resigned to his fate. “Thanks, Eishia. And you, Semiu. I’ll see you both later.”
He stands up, gritting his teeth as stomach cramps flare up. God, there’s no way this is really happening.
“What?” Enjin comes up next to him as he walks towards the door. “No thanks for me?”
“Enjin,” Semiu calls, a bit of warning in her voice.
“Semiu,” Enjin throws an arm around Gris’s shoulder, looking over it as he continues, “I’m just making sure my pal Gris here gets back to his room safe.”
Gris rolls his eyes, but he does appreciate that despite the fact that Gris is actively presenting, Enjin doesn’t seem any different than normal. Gris won’t admit it out loud, but he would hate to get treated any differently because of something like this.
As they exit the room, Enjin closes the door behind them, unhooking his arm from Gris’s shoulders. When Gris gives him a look, pointedly staring at the arm, Enjin shrugs.
“I just did it to annoy her,” Enjin explains as they walk down the hall. “Though, I really shouldn’t be that touchy. It might…tempt you.”
Gris turns his head to look at Enjin, sees the sly look on his face, and proceeds to laugh harder than he has all day. He only laughs harder when Enjin squawks, “Hey, what’s so funny?”
After Gris finishes, they don’t talk until they reach his door. Once he’s unlocked it, Gris turns back to Enjin before entering.
“Well…,” Gris starts, but doesn’t know how to finish. Usually, he’s never at a loss for words, but really, what is he supposed to say? ‘See you on the other side of my fever-induced sex craze’? ‘Thanks for walking me to my room, where I’ll probably jack off for 72 hours straight’? ‘Hey, maybe don’t tell anybody that my body has completely lost it and decided to present at the near decrepit age of 30’?
Enjin, whom Gris is sometimes grateful for, takes away his need to say anything by replying, “Yup.”
Gris cracks a smile before they exchange goodbyes. Once the door closes and he can hear Enjin’s footsteps walking away from his door, he sighs deeply, looking around his room.
It’s just him and the heat now.
Gris stumbles out of his room, rushing as he pulls a boot onto his left foot, and speedwalks down the hallway.
After 3 days of nothing but hot flashes, erections, and body aches, Gris needs nothing more than to be on a mission where he can take his anger out on trashbeasts.
The heat was nothing but horrible, and Gris can’t say he loves that this is what his future will be until he reaches…omega menopause? Whenever his body realizes it should give up on trying to be fertile, which should definitely be as soon as possible.
He passes the cafeteria doors and stops dead in his tracks. He didn’t realize it before, but he is starving—or, more than starving. Ravenous. Sustaining himself on protein bars in his room wasn’t that useful when your metabolism was going a thousand miles a minute. It would be nice to get some real food in his system.
Upon entering the cafeteria, he gets a few stares that he tries his best to ignore as he surveys to see if there’s anyone for him to sit with. He doesn’t see anyone, except for Tamsy, who is walking towards him and clearly on his way out.
Gris gives him a small wave, looking to walk past him, but Tamsy stops right in front of him.
“So,” Tamsy drawls, head cocking as he looks Gris up and down, “how does it feel to be an omega?”
There’s something in his tone that makes him feel weird, like he’s teasing. It doesn’t really make sense, though, because he’s an omega too. Gris just stares at him for a moment, until it clicks.
Tamsy was the first person he met the day he presented.
Gris blinks, shifting to his left foot as the realization settles in. “You knew. That I was—. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Tamsy smiles, and Gris thinks he’s showing a bit too much teeth. “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Congratulations on your presentation.”
And with that, he’s off, not letting Gris get a word in as per usual. Gris rolls his eyes, sighing as he goes to get some food. Surprise, his ass.
He sits alone at a table near the back. As he digs in, he notes that he’s still getting some stares, but he keeps his eyes on his food.
Just as he’s about to get up, three trays land in front of him.
“Gris!” Bro smiles at him, taking a seat along with Dear and Guita. “How ya doing, man?”
Gris smiles back reflexively, clapping Bro’s outstretched hand. This is what he needs right now, someone who’ll treat him like he’s normal and not a freak of nature.
“Eh, seen better days,” Gris shrugs, before turning to Dear and Guita. “Hey, kids. How’s it hanging?”
Dear, as usual, says nothing, but he doesn’t look that angry, so Gris can guess it’s going pretty well for him. Guita, however, stands on the bench, places her hands on the table, and leans over towards Gris, nose in the air.
“Guita!” Bro reaches a hand towards the back of Guita’s onesie, pulling her back down into her seat. “Where are your manners?”
“Sorry!” Guita draws out, in the way that says she’s not really sorry. “I just overheard some Cleaners saying that Gris presented! I didn’t know old people could present!”
Gris grimaces, not only because Guita is being overly loud and he’s getting more stares now than before, but getting called old by a child hurts more than usual for some reason.
Bro’s face goes red in embarrassment, and he starts looking between Gris and Guita, apologizing to him and scolding Guita at the same time.
Gris is starting to hear whispers, and that lets him know that it’s his cue to exit.
“Me neither,” Gris responds as he stands up, tray in hand. Before Bro can beg him to stay so he can keep apologizing, Gris says, “No hard feelings. I just need to get out of base for a bit, so I’m going to pick up a mission.”
Bro nods in understanding, still looking extremely guilty, but Gris knows he’ll apologize more when they talk later, once he’s put the kids to bed.
He leaves them with a wave, drops his tray off, and heads off to the lobby.
As usual, Semiu’s reading her adult literature, though literature is a gracious word for it, as Gris approaches her desk.
Semiu lowers her magazine partially as she regards him. “How was the heat?”
Gris, going for playful sarcasm, gives her a thumbs up. “It was a great gift.”
She gives a small laugh, and Gris is starting to feel a little more normal.
“Excited for your future until omega menopause?”
“Ecstatic,” Gris says quickly, because he is appreciating this conversation, but he also feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. “Listen, I need a mission.”
“Gotcha,” Semiu puts down the magazine, not even bothering to close it, and Gris averts his eyes from her desk as she rifles through some papers.
She holds up a paper towards him, and he grabs it. Just a couple of seconds of reading, and he smiles. This is exactly what he needs. Mindless trashbeast bashing.
“Team Akuta’s on this one. They leave in about half an hour," Semiu informs, before she kicks her feet up on the desk and places her magazine in her lap.
Before she can get back to business, Gris takes a seat on the side of her desk, smiling at her as he says, “Catch me up on what I missed?”
They chat until the crew arrives, and Gris didn’t really know that he missed everyone this much.
Follo and Tomme are surprised to see him, but Gris can feel their excitement, and what is possibly relief, coming off of them as they approach him.
“Gris, we missed you,” Tomme says as she stands next to him, bumping his shoulder with hers. He bumps back.
“I’ve missed you guys, too,” Gris admits, and he really can’t stop smiling. “Things haven’t been too bad without me, right?”
Follo shakes his head, and from the expression on his face, something didn’t go too great.
“Gris, you don’t even know. The last mission we went on two days ago—” Follo cuts himself off to look at Tomme, who simply shakes her head and holds her lips tight. “We’re so glad you’re back.”
Semiu explained to him some of what went down, and Gris wishes he had been there. He laughs, patting Follo on the head. “You guys will have to tell me all about it later. We’ll probably go out to eat after this.”
Follo looks up at him, slightly nervous, as he asks tentatively, “Are you alright?”
Follo and Tomme are both betas, so he knows that they can’t smell him really, but he’s sure they’ve heard enough horror stories about presentation to give them some caution.
“I’m just fine,” Gris reassures, looking between them both. He wants to say more, but Riyo interrupts, and Gris wonders how he didn’t even notice the other Akuta kids walk up.
Riyo’s nose wrinkles and her eyes widen as she gets close to Gris’s other side.
“Woah, Gris. You actually did present,” Riyo says, obviously in disbelief. “I thought Enjin was just shitting us.”
“Have some tact, Riyo,” Zanka scowls down at her, before giving Gris a once-over. “Good to have you back.”
Gris opens his mouth to respond to that, because he doesn’t really think he appreciates Enjin telling the kids about him, but Rudo blurts, “Are you okay?”
Gris looks down and sees the pinched expression on Rudo’s tiny face, and starts to wonder what the hell Enjin told them. It’s not like he was on the verge of death.
Gris is about to say something that he hopes would give some relief, when Enjin, coming out of nowhere, promptly pushes the kids to the side to sling an arm around his shoulder.
“Hey, hey, lighten up on the questions, guys,” Enjin says as he tilts his head to rest it on Gris’s shoulder. “Gris is a bit nervous about all of this, so if you could—”
“As if,” Gris scoffs as he shrugs Enjin off his shoulder. He needs to set everybody straight, because it seems like they’re all operating under certain assumptions right now. “I’m fine—wonderful, even. Nothing’s changed. Let’s go.”
And with that, they go.
To be honest, Gris isn’t really that nervous about the whole omega thing. To help himself out, he’s resigned himself to reading ‘Your Omega and You’ in his spare time, rather than working in the garage. Now that he’s actually an omega, it’s probably for the best if he knows all the details.
Other than that, some things have changed for sure, but he thinks he can handle some people walking around smelling like candles. Eishia told him his nose is pretty weak after she did a scent test for him during a checkup, so he’s grateful for that.
Especially when he ends up in crowded places like a bar on a Friday night after a mission.
He’s out with Enjin and Semiu, which is a rare occasion considering Semiu barely ever steps away from her desk. It’s not the worst, but Semiu’s on the fast track to being way too drunk, and Enjin’s no help at all, buying more rounds when they should’ve stopped a while ago.
Gris, being the sensible, mature man he is, has only had one glass of beer. Because he knows his liver can’t handle too much nowadays…and because he’s pretty sure one of his old hookups is sitting at the bar, and he really can’t bear to meet them again, especially not like this. As far as he can remember, the guy was an alpha. A rude one, at that. He didn't have the best taste in bed partners in his mid-20s…and early 20s. And maybe, any time before he decided to get his life together.
So yeah, he’s nursing an empty bottle of beer, refusing shots because that will only lead to disaster, and his eyes keep averting to the bar every few seconds to make sure that his ex-fling hasn’t seen him. Or, he was doing that until Enjin slams down a shotglass in front of him, effectively catching his attention.
“Drink,” Enjin demands, staring him down. He must be over Gris’s too-high levels of sobriety.
Gris looks down at the drink before dragging his eyes up to meet Enjin’s. He really does want to drink it, because he deserves it after the week he’s had, but shots will no doubt end with him leaning over the toilet bowl tomorrow…or tonight.
“Drink, drink, drink,” Semiu chants, raising her hands in the air as she wobbles side to side. Gris steadies her with a hand on her back before taking the shot in his other hand. He pushes it back towards Enjin.
“No thanks.”
Enjin pushes it back.
“Gris.”
Push. “My liver can’t take it.”
Push. “Shut the fuck up.”
Push. “I’m gonna be hungover tomorrow.”
Push. “So are we. Ever heard of aspirin?”
Gris swallows. A last-ditch effort. Push. “I’m watching my weight.”
At that, Enjin scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even go there. Drink.”
Gris is a strong man, but not so strong. He downs it in a second, enjoying the burn, and Semiu cheers as he does, grabbing Enjin’s forearm to beg him to buy another round.
Enjin ignores her in favor of continuing to look at Gris, who wonders if Enjin is about to shove another shot down his throat. Instead, he smirks, asking, “So, have your eye on any alphas?”
Gris’s shoulders relax minutely at the thought of not having to drink any more, but he still sighs. “Enjin, when will this end?”
Ever since his presentation, Enjin has not let up. If it isn’t bringing up his designation, it’s bringing up alphas, and smells, and how Gris calling Enjin during his presentation is a sign of attraction. Gris almost throttled him for that one.
“Dude, c’mon, I’m just joshing you,” Enjin raises both of his hands, before his eyes go to the bar. “Also, you’ve been looking at the guy over there for a hot minute.”
Gris says nothing, mainly because he’s debating whether or not he should admit that the dude’s an old hookup, which gives Enjin all the time he needs to look back at Gris and ask,” Your omega hormones making you have a thing for guys now?”
Semiu starts laughing, loudly. Almost hyena-like.
Gris frowns. “What?”
Enjin shrugs, clearly trying to be casual. “When you’re an alpha or omega, sometimes the secondary gender is more important to you than the sex. So, you know, you might find yourself looking at a guy from time to time.”
Gris just stares blankly, before realizing that he’s never really told Enjin about his sexuality before, as it was and still is none of his business. But, now’s a good time as ever, and the look on Enjin’s face will probably be hilarious.
Gris glances at his ex-fling before looking back at Enjin. He says slowly, “So, nothing’s changed.”
Enjin frowns. “What?”
They both stare at each other.
Semiu is looking between them, a dopey smile on her face, and Gris knows that she’s enjoying this.
“What does that mean?”
“Enjin,” Gris takes a breath for dramatic effect, “I’m bisexual.”
The look on Enjin’s face makes them laugh so hard that Semiu actually falls off her chair, and Gris almost goes down with her.
Gris flips through another page of his nightly reading, the lamp illuminating the pages of the book. He’s a decent way through for someone who doesn’t really like to read, though he can’t say he relates to all the material. The book is clearly geared towards teenagers who are dealing with regular hormones and omega hormones, so he does end up skipping some portions. After all, he does know how to manage his emotions already.
The current section isn’t really making much sense to him at all. Nesting doesn’t seem like something anyone should like. The idea of people’s already-worn clothes in his bed is gross, and his sense of smell isn’t that strong anyway, so the benefits are probably lessened for him. Though it does say that the need for nesting tends to increase during heats, so maybe during his next heat, he’ll feel like wrapping himself up in other people’s clothes.
On that note, when is his next heat coming? And what is he going to do?
Eishia explained that his heat could come as often as 4 times a year, or only once, but that most people have a heat within 3-4 months after their presentation. So really, after the next one, he should only really be having one a year (if he’s so lucky), considering his age. But who to spend it with, if anyone at all?
The heat wasn’t the worst pain Gris has experienced. The horniness was more annoying than anything, but to be uncomfortable for as long as three days every time…
Gris would rather not. And he refuses to buy sex toys or things of that nature on principle. His hand works just fine. But who to ask?
In the end, there’s only one option really.
Enjin is annoying, but Gris would be lying to himself if he pretends that he’s never thought about it—the idea of them. Back when they first met, it was something Gris seriously considered. After all, Enjin is charming, responsible, and not at all ugly, and to Gris, he was the kind of person he’d been holding out for. Someone who he wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with, or wake up to the next morning.
Or at least, that’s what he was thinking until Enjin admitted to being a womanizer and spent almost 10 minutes describing his type of woman in-depth.
Now, Gris accepts the fact that Enjin and he will only ever exist in theory, and never in any sensible reality. But sometimes, he still thinks about it. After all, some things change while others stay the same.
Gris sighs, dog-earing the page before closing the book. That’s enough for today.
Right after Gris turns off his lamp, Enjin’s voice comes through his Choker.
“Yo, Gris.”
Speak of the devil.
“Enjin?”
“I have the day off tomorrow. Let’s hang.”
Gris shrugs, though he knows Enjin can’t see him.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be in the garage.”
“Bet. See ya.”
The line cuts, and Gris takes his choker off and sets it on his nightstand. He’d save the issue of his heat for another day.
The next day finds Gris in the garage, giving the cars their overdue maintenance, when Enjin walks in at the bright and early time of 12:30 PM, which is no surprise to Gris, who is fully aware that Enjin doesn’t bother getting up before noon on his days off.
Gris hears him enter, but can’t exactly turn around as he’s forearms deep in the front engine of the Cleaner car, so he simply waits for Enjin to come closer. As usual, Enjin gets too close. Gris feels the warmth of his body behind him, then hears a sniff near his ear. He jerks so hard that his head almost hits the underside of the hood.
“Guita was right. You really do smell like day-old orange juice.”
So that’s what this is about. Gris rolls his eyes, and he untangles himself from the car and stands upright to face Enjin, who has a cig in his mouth and a small smile on his lips.
“I’m flattered,” Gris says, wiping some grease off his hands with a nearby towel. “You didn’t notice before?”
Gris can’t really tell what he smells like. He rubbed his scent glands once and brought his fingers to his nose, and he did smell kind of tangy, but he’s not really able to get more descriptive than that. Semiu says he smells like Phanta, and Eishia said that Gris’s scent reminds her of the hand soap her grandma uses, though Gris didn’t know how flattering that one was. The last person he asked, Bro, said that Gris smells like diluted Triple Séque, which was interesting considering that Gris doesn’t care for its taste.
Enjin, so far, despite constantly testing out Gris’s ability to tell what someone else smells like, has made no comment on Gris’s scent.
Enjin shrugs, looking off to the side for a moment. “I couldn’t put a name to it.”
Gris hums, and he’s about to bring up Follo’s progress as a Giver, as the kids usually end up being their topic of conversation, when Enjin asks, “Wanna smell me?”
Gris blinks, then blinks again as his face starts to slowly twist up.
“Excuse me?”
Maybe Gris heard him wrong…or maybe it’s just the setup for a joke. He stares at Enjin, whose face is completely neutral.
“Wanna take a whiff..,”Enjin sounds unsure as he twirls his cigarette in between his fingers, “of me?”
Gris waits. No punchline. And he heard him right.
“No,” Gris says slowly, because he can’t actually believe that this is a serious question.
Enjin laughs, but it wavers. “No, like, y’know, so you know what I smell like. Semiu says your nose is weak, so you’ll have to come in close.”
Gris’s eyebrows furrow as he slowly tilts his head to regard Enjin. Is this some sort of prank?
“I already know what you smell like,” Gris starts, as he plucks Enjin’s cigarette from his fingers. “Tobacco, from all the smoking—you need to quit, by the way—and mint, from all the gum you chew to cover up the tobacco.”
Enjin tries to reach for his cigarette, but Gris drops it on the floor. Enjin grimaces as he puts it out.
“Okay, well,” Enjin rolls his eyes, putting his hands behind his head. “Scents have layers, so I could smell way more complex deep down if you just—”
“Dude, I’m not smelling you,” Gris states, starting to lose patience.
And with that, Enjin stops talking and starts looking around the garage. At what, Gris has no clue, but the Cleaner cars aren’t going to fix themselves. Gris is about to turn back to the car when Enjin clears his throat, starting to fiddle with the wrench on the rolling cart next to him.
“So,” Enjin starts, and he looks more serious than he has the whole conversation, “that guy you hooked up with—”
Gris straightens up quickly. “Get out.”
“What?” Enjin looks actually taken aback, which is fair considering Gris doesn’t usually sound this angry, but he’s barely had any time to spend in the garage, and he really doesn’t need Mr. Million Questions on his ass right now.
“You’re clearly too bored. Go find someone else to bother,” Gris says, waving a hand before turning back to the engine. He needs to replace the head gasket in this one, and that usually takes some time.
Enjin sees himself out, and Gris doesn’t see him for the rest of the day.
That day doesn’t change much, as their friendship can take pretty much anything.
No one apologized, but Gris doesn’t bother asking for an apology for Enjin’s odd behavior in general. It’s best to just get over it.
After all, can you really hold a grudge against a guy who smashes a rampaging Trash Beast that’s heading right for you to bits? And can that same guy hold a grudge against you when you rip out the core of a Trash beast in his blind spot with your bare hands?
Gris thinks not. They finish up the mission quickly, and all things considered, it really wasn’t that bad compared to some of the crazy stuff Gris has seen. All the kids are uninjured, and in fact, are conversing amongst themselves as they trudge their way back to the car. In reality, the biggest issue lies ahead of them.
Gris meets Enjin’s eyes, who’s swinging the Cleaner car keys around his pointer finger, silently daring Gris to say something as they reach the driver’s seat.
Gris puts out his hand, firm. “You drove on the way here. Let me see the keys.”
“Eh,” Enjin shrugs, slow, lazy, and completely irritating. “I don’t mind.”
Gris’s fingers twitch, but he holds back from reaching for the keys. He’s not playing that stupid game with Enjin again, especially not in front of the kids.
“Listen,” Gris starts, and he hopes his face is communicating how serious he is, “you don’t have to fix up the cars after you drive them over every crack possible.”
“Pssh,” Enjin scoffs, waving his key-free hand dismissively. “You would live in the garage if you could. I give you something to do.”
Gris takes a step forward. “Enjin—”
Enjin puts a finger up to his face. “Ah, ah, ah.”
“—you’re being ridiculous. Give me the keys.”
“So everyone can be dead asleep after two seconds of your driving?”
Gris rolls his eyes, hard. “How does that even matter? We’re going back to HQ, anyway!”
Gris doesn’t even know where this whole thing is coming from. Yes, Enjin always gripes about falling asleep when Gris drives, but they usually don’t argue this long over it. What changed?
“Um.”
They turn to look at the kids, who are looking at them with emotions varying from concern (Rudo) to amusement (Riyo). Zanka is staring out at the landscape, seemingly wanting to avert his eyes from their pointless argument, and Follo is looking at both of them like they’ve lost their minds.
Follo brings a fist up to his mouth as he clears his throat. “Can Gris drive? No offense, but I hit my head on the way here when you drove over that rock, Enjin.”
As if remembering the pain, he rubs the top of his head through his hat.
Enjin throws his arms up in the air. “Oh, fine, gang up on me. You know you’re on my team now, right?”
Follo just shrugs, looking sheepish.
Gris notices that even though he’s been on Team Akuta for a month or so now, Follo still tends to defer to Gris before Enjin. His first mission out, when Enjin told him to ‘go for it and show that Trash beast what’s what’, he had looked at Gris for confirmation before running off, full steam ahead.
Enjin’s eyes scan over the kids before settling on his next target. “Zanka, what do you think?”
Zanka’s head turns quickly, that sparkle in his eyes that always appears whenever Enjin addresses him. Before he can get a word in, Riyo huffs, rolling her eyes.
“Of course you’d ask him.”
At that, Zanka gives Riyo a side-eye. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Uh, you know what it means,” Riyo retorts, all sass and no tact as usual.
Before Riyo and Zanka can start butting heads, Rudo says quietly, “I like when Gris drives.”
And with that, the decision is made. While Enjin can be headstrong, he has a soft spot for the youngest on their team. Rudo doesn’t ask for much in the first place, so it feels kind of wrong to not give him something when he asks for it.
Enjin tosses the key in Gris’s hands, muttering to himself as he walks around to the other side of the car. With that, they all pile in.
Gris buckles in, putting the key into the ignition. He’s about to turn it, when Rudo speaks up again, “Gris, why do you fix the cars? Do the Cleaners not have a mechanic?”
“I am the mechanic,” Gris answers, at the same time that Enjin responds, “He is the mechanic.”
“Wow,” Rudo mouths quietly as he stares at Gris with what he thinks is wonder. Gris smiles to himself, straightening up in his seat. It’s nice to be appreciated.
“Yup,” Enjin slings an arm around the back of Gris’s headrest as he turns to give him what Gris considers a fairly dashing smile. “Gris is pretty handy. Always nice to have a guy like him around.”
Gris gives Enjin a look, his smile growing bigger, before he turns the key and the car revs up. He’s about to put his foot to the pedal, when Follo asks, “Was that a line?”
“What?” Gris, Enjin, and Zanka shout, all turning in their seats to stare at Follo.
Riyo just starts laughing, and at some point, Enjin joins in. Gris gives him a dirty look before meeting Follo’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Follo curls his lips inward, like he’s regretting the fact that he said anything, and looks out the window. Next to him, Rudo looks confused as he does his characteristic frog blink.
Once Riyo composes herself, she takes a deep breath before smiling at Enjin. “Yeah, Enjin. Can you save the flirting for when we get back?”
“Riyo!” Zanka scolds, obviously scandalized at the thought of his role model flirting in front of him.
Rudo’s face seems to be making some weird contortions as he starts to realize what everyone’s talking about. Once it sets in, his eyes go wide as he looks between Gris, who is questioning his life once again, and Enjin, who is happily spectating the argument between Riyo and Zanka in the back.
Before one of the most embarrassing moments of Gris’s life can continue, he intervenes.
“How about we have a quiet ride today?”Gris suggests, with a tone that communicates that it’s not a suggestion.
Everyone quiets down immediately. Enjin even turns around in his seat and buckles his seat belt. Gris sighs internally, putting the shift gear into drive and pressing his foot on the gas.
The car is silent all the way to HQ.
Gris feels his heat coming on. It’s in the flashes of pain in his lower back, in the odd tingling starting to settle in his stomach, and in the increasing warmth he feels all over.
A part of him wants to panic, catapult him back to that day that seems so long ago, where he knew nothing. The other part of him, the reasonable part, knows that he’s more prepared than last time. He’s finally finished ‘Your Body and You: Omega Edition’ and even if he’s not fully ready, he sure is well-informed.
He has a pack of water bottles along with more protein bars than someone could ever need stocked up in his room. He has an unsigned heat leave form in his room too, which he needs to turn into Semiu in a couple of days before he loses his lucidity.
But that’s all for the future. Now, he’s waving goodbye to Bro, who’s turning in for the night, and then resuming his card game with Enjin.
Or he tries to keep playing. Enjin’s not making it easy with the game of footsie he’s starting underneath the table. Gris gives him a flat look as he puts another card down, but Enjin only smiles wider as he continues to try to rub his foot over Gris’s calf. Gris wants to grimace, but the heat hormones must be getting to him, because he’s starting to wonder if this is something that can happen after all.
Maybe Enjin could spend his heat with Gris, and maybe they could be something. After all, Gris can’t remember the last time Enjin went out by himself, and Gris is starting to wonder if maybe Enjin is starting to hold out for someone, too. Someone like Gris.
Gris knows he has a little pride to lose, but in the face of what he could gain, what does any of it matter?
Gris clears his throat, placing his deck face-down on the table. “Hey, can you come to my room real quick?”
Enjin perks up, back ramrod straight as he asks, “What is it?”
“I just want to talk to you in private.” Gris pushes away from the table, standing up as he signals for Enjin to follow.
Enjin jumps up behind him, hot on his heels, with the oddest smile on his face as they reach Gris’s room. As soon as the door closes behind Enjin, he leans back on it as he asks, “So, down to fuck?”
“Eugh,” Gris groans. It isn’t the first time Enjin has asked that as a joke, but it’s the first time that Gris is going to be saying an answer that sounds something like ‘yes’. Gris looks at Enjin, looks him up and down slowly, and thinks ‘yes’.
“Yes,” Gris starts, before startling after realizing how that sounds. “Wait, I mean—No, don’t make that face. I just—I was wondering if you wanted to…spend my heat with me.”
At that, the shit-eating grin on Enjin’s face quickly falls off as his expression goes blank.
Gris, trying to scale back and also not seem completely embarrassed, says, “I understand if you don’t—”
“Yeah, no, no, yeah,” Enjin interjects, switching his weight between his feet quickly, like he also couldn’t believe that Gris is asking for this.
Gris lets out a breath, relief flooding into him as his shoulders drop. He would definitely need time to process this entire thing later, but for now—
“But, it’s just casual, right?”
Gris blinks as his train of thought veers off the tracks and crashes. He stares at Enjin, who has an expression on his face that Gris can’t really place.
Right. Of course. How could Gris ever expect that Mr. Can’t Commit would be looking for something serious? It’s laughable, really. The idea that Enjin would hold out for someone like Gris has been holding out for him.
Gris can only nod, and he hopes his face doesn’t look as crushed as he feels.
Enjin nods back, clearing his throat.
“Um, I’ll bring the condoms?”
At the thought of protection, Gris remembers something.
“You should get tested.”
Enjin raises an eyebrow at that. “You calling me a whore?”
Gris rolls his eyes. “I got tested after my last person.”
Enjin snorts. “And when was that?”
“Shut up.”
“Yup,” Enjin nods, placing a hand on his doorknob as he starts to turn away from Gris. “Looking forward to it.”
And that’s the last thing he says before he’s gone. As Gris takes a deep sigh and collapses onto his bed, he wonders where it all went wrong.
For the most part, Gris gets over it, and everything continues as normal. Except for the part where every time they’re in the same room, Enjin gets the most self-satisfied look on his face. Oh, and except for the part where Gris isn’t really over it and is questioning whether this entire thing is a good idea.
It’s not that he can’t pretend to be casual, but rather, he hates how much he wishes it weren’t casual.
Though it doesn’t matter much because despite all his hesitances, Gris finds himself turning in his heat leave form with his and Enjin’s name on it.
“Wow, can’t remember the last time I saw this idiot’s name on a heat leave form,” Semiu comments as she takes the form from his hand and stamps it. She sets it to the side as she continues, “You’re one lucky guy.”
At that, Semiu winks and Gris feels himself blush, blood rushing up to his face. It’s embarrassing enough that Enjin’s being so smug about it, but it’s even worse that people are going to know. Gris likes his privacy more than most, and he knows how the Cleaners can get with gossip.
He’s about to respond, maybe lightheartedly mention that Gris isn’t the only lucky one in this scenario, considering Enjin’s recent dry spell, when a voice behind him purrs, “Oh yes, you are.”
Semiu leans to the side to look past him, and her eyebrows raise. Gris steps out of the way and turns to see Tamsy, who has somehow snuck up behind him, and once again, has the oddest smile on his face.
Gris takes a glance at Semiu, who seems to be equally as confused as him, before returning his gaze to Tamsy. “Um, hi?”
Tamsy doesn’t give a greeting, rather, he looks Gris up and down before saying,“Enjin’s a good lay.”
Gris’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
Tamsy’s smile only stretches longer across his face as he continues,“I would know.”
And with that, he shrugs lightly before he’s off. They both watch him walk down the hallway and make a left, before looking at each other.
“What kind of omega-posturing was that?” Semiu asks, giving a dirty look down the hall where Tamsy had once been.
Gris just shakes his head. “Honestly, I don’t know what that was.”
And it’s not like what Tamsy said is going to make Gris change his mind, or doubt himself, or the whole arrangement between him and Enjin.
Of course not.
The day comes, and Gris is going to buzz out of his skin. Enjin’s just walked in the door, looking about as nervous as Gris feels, but he wonders why, if he’s done this before. Once their eyes meet, Enjin smiles and Gris smiles back in reflex. Just by his presence, the heat below Gris’s skin is cooling off.
“So,” Enjin drawls, as he starts taking some steps closer to Gris, “you excited?”
Gris aims for lighthearted.“Yeah, especially since Tamsy gave you a glowing recommendation.”
That was a bust. What a really great job, bringing up the person who is bound to make this conversation awkward.
Enjin’s smile seems to freeze as his eyebrows furrow, before recognition sets in.
“Tamsy?” Enjin repeats, obviously confused. “That was forever ago. What did he say?”
Gris looks up, like he’s thinking about it. Usually, he’s not in a position to tease Enjin, so he draws it out, looks Enjin up and down. His eyebrows raise as he smiles and says, “That you were a good lay.”
Enjin laughs, but it’s shaky, and he’s not looking straight at Gris, as if he's guilty.
“Y’know, funny thing about that,” Enjin starts as he rubs the back of his head with his right hand. “He did say I was good after, but that he’d stick with toys ‘cause I was too mouthy.”
At that, Gris laughs and it’s genuine. He can’t imagine the hit that would’ve been to Enjin’s ego.
Actually, he can. Gris can imagine Enjin’s shocked face, the way his mouth would hang open, the shock in his eyes as he struggles to process the rejection. In fact, Gris finds that he can imagine Enjin in all kinds of ways.
Something must change in Gris’s demeanor, or maybe his scent, because Enjin’s smile gets a predatory edge, and he gets even closer, so they’re almost chest-to-chest.
“Not that any of that matters,” Enjin says in a low, slow tone. “I’ve been saving myself for you, y’know.”
Gris is getting hit with waves of tobacco and mint, and maybe some honey, and he leans in without thinking, licking his lips. Enjin’s eyes are on his lips, then they’re looking into each other’s eyes, then they’re jumping over the deep end.
There’s not really any conversation until the end of the first wave, when Enjin is locked inside him.
Enjin’s over him, sweat dripping down his face, but he’s smiling. They’re both smiling. Gris is kind of exhausted, and he’ll definitely be sore tomorrow…and for the rest of the week, but he’s feeling pretty good.
Enjin’s arms start to tremble, so Gris pulls him down to lie on his chest. Enjin huffs as he starts to relax.
“So,” Enjin pants, propping himself slightly to look Gris in the face, “how was your first time as an omega?”
Gris hums, taking some time to think about it. “Well, it was hard to think with all the talking you were doing.”
Enjin pinches him on the pec. “That the only reason it was hard to think?”
Gris laughs, Enjin joins in, and Gris finds himself not regretting this, until the thought of ‘casual’ seeps into his brain again. His laughter tapers off, and he goes a bit silent. How is he going to act normal after this?
Something must have changed in his demeanor, or his scent, because Enjin starts rubbing up the side of his neck in a soothing manner.
“What’s going on? You good?”
Gris holds his breath slightly and thinks of what to say. He could just brush it off, joke about Enjin being heavy. Or bring up the fact that he’s thirsty, or that he could go for a protein bar right about now or he could just say—
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“What?” Enjin scrambles up onto his elbows, coming up to align their faces together.
“Enjin, hold on, you’re pushing in deeper.”
At that, he feels Enjin twitch inside him, spurting more.
They both pause.
“Did you just—?”
“Yes, but what? You said—You think—You’re in love with me?”
“I’ve, well, I’ve liked you for some time, but I think it’s gotten worse now,” Gris laughs awkwardly, hoping Enjin can’t hear Gris’s heart going a million miles a minute. “I don’t know. I think…we could have a future together, Enjin, if you’re open.”
Enjin’s eyes are wide, his arms are stiff on either side of Gris, and his mouth is set in a straight line. Maybe Gris should’ve waited until they were separated.
Suddenly, Enjin dives in, pressing their lips together as he presses deeper inside Gris. They both groan in tandem. When Enjin comes up for air, he babbles, “Oh my god, oh my god, this is perfect. You’re perfect, Gris. I’ve thought you were fine as fuck and great as hell, for like, forever, but I didn’t even know you liked guys. After that night at the bar, I thought I had a chance, so I’ve been trying to get a read on you. You haven’t made it easy, you know.”
“It’s hard showing interest in a self-proclaimed womanizer.”
Enjin winces at his own words, before kissing him again.
“Okay, okay, but I’m totally open, y’know, so you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
Gris smiles, and their mouths find each other once again. This time, after they separate, Enjin whispers, “Man, I wish there were no condom.”
Gris jolts, face flushing as he covers his mouth with his hand. “Wow, Enjin.”
“Can we go raw next time?” Enjin leans in, as if going for another kiss.
Gris holds him back with a hand. “Enjin!”
“You can go on birth control,” Enjin offers, as if that’s the issue Gris is having with his request.“Hell, I’ll pay.”
Gris just looks up at him, and thinks about all the times he thought this was never going to happen. Smiling, he leans in for a kiss, saying, “I’ll think about it.”