Chapter Text
Keith sits in the passenger side of Kolivan’s truck in total silence. Kolivan had turned the radio off nearly an hour ago and it had done nothing to lighten the mood, so now Keith sits awkwardly and tries not to pout.
He also tries not to breathe too deeply; because there’s a smell, one he hasn’t encountered in years, suffusing the small, cramped truck. It’s so tempting to breathe deep, to fill his nose with those rich, earthy, calming notes. But Keith’s hands are getting clammy and he’s starting to feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with the truck’s newly fixed heaters, so he takes shallow breaths through his mouth and pretends he can’t taste the air on his tongue.
Keith’s heat is coming.
Of course it is, it’s march break and Keith stopped taking his suppressants two days ago. At the time, it seemed like a brilliant plan – Keith would match his heat with the break and ride it out in the comfort of his own bedroom, surrounded by familiar smells and protected by a frankly staggering amount of high-tech scent blockers. He had timed it perfectly; he’d start his pre-heat today and suffer the initial cramping over the seven-hour drive back to the apartment he shares with his godfather before locking himself away from the world for two to three days.
It should have been a perfect plan; Keith has always slept during long car rides. All it’d take is a few advil for the cramps and he’d be out like a light, waking up just in time to sequester himself in his room for a few more days. Then he’d be able to spend some good quality time with Kolivan at the end of his heat.
What he didn’t account for is Kolivan’s rut.
Keith can’t actually remember the last time he’s seen one of Kolivan’s rut. He tries to, and the best he can think of is back when he was maybe thirteen or fourteen and he had missed a soccer tournament because Kolivan was too anxious for him to leave the apartment. It stuck with him because that was the first time Kolivan’s rut had meant Keith would miss out on more than just school and tests, and he had complained something fierce. He must have said something about it, because for the life of him he can’t remember seeing Kolivan in rut since.
Which very likely is a blessing, because the man smells like a dream and Keith is quite sure he would not have made it through high school if his guardian smelled like this on a biannual basis. Christ, it’s only been a few hours and Keith can already feel himself reacting to Kolivan’s scent, his body tipping over from pre-heat to full heat faster than he ever has before.
And they still have over four hours to go.
Kolivan’s grip on the wheel is white-hot and he glares at every other car on the road. It’s understandable; ruts make alphas protective of their kits, and as Kolivan’s ward for the last ten-odd years Keith is sure he would classify as a kit in his godfather’s eyes. Kolivan can smell Keith’s heat coming just as well as Keith can smell the rut steaming off of him, which is no doubt the cause of his defensive driving.
The air stirs after Kolivan heaves a deep sigh and Keith can’t help but smell him. They’re practically choking on each other’s scents in the cramped space. It’s been so long since he’s smelled that particular scent that Keith can’t help but think back.
The first rut Keith ever experienced was a few months after his parents’ death. He was still living on a cot in that old bachelor pad Kolivan had, he hadn’t been to school for months, his only contact aside from Kolivan had been to speak with some child psychologists helping him deal with his grief (and to chase the neighbour kids away from their boisterous games in the back alleyway once or twice).
That rut had been a breakthrough for the pair, who up to that point had lived as awkward strangers trying to put on a brave face in front of each other: the fun “uncle” and the kid who shows no fear.
But then Kolivan’s rut turned in on itself; Kolivan became overly protective of Keith, not letting him stray more than a few feet away, terrified he would not be able to protect his young charge. Keith spent nearly the entire week in Kolivan’s arms. That rut made Keith finally realize that Kolivan had no idea what he was doing, but that he cared greatly for Keith. And it showed Keith that Kolivan had no intention of letting Keith go. Until that moment, Keith had feared the foster system so badly it had stopped him from processing any other emotion. But that night, Keith finally let that fear go.
Keith had cried then, and so had Kolivan. And Keith had slept every night of that rut with his nose turned in to Kolivan’s neck, seeking the comfort his broken heart desperately yearned for.
That was when Kolivan truly became Keith’s guardian: his protector.
Smelling that scent now invokes all of those same feelings of security they had offered him then, except now there are new layers of emotions running through and underneath it. Layers Keith is hard pressed to resist as his heat closes in on him, filling his veins with molten desire.
Kolivan sighs again and Keith shifts in his seat.
Moving is a bad idea because it feels kind of good in that way that makes him want to do it again. He knows if he starts to squirm, he’ll just make the heat come on even faster; give it an inch and it’ll take a mile.
Kolivan sighs a third time, only this one is low and stretches long enough that it’s almost a growl. Keith chances a glance over and he can see Kolivan’s jaw set tight.
He flicks a thick finger over the turn signal and moves onto the exit ramp with little warning.
Keith looks around to try and catch a look at the sign. They’re close to one of the three cities that divides Keith’s university from his hometown, but he can’t tell for sure which one. It’s only 6 pm, but it’s still dark enough that you have to be paying attention to catch a sign.
“Bathroom break?” Keith guesses. He wouldn’t object to a break (or some fresh air), but there’s no way he’s stepping out of the vehicle for a public washroom at this stage of pre-heat. He doesn’t trust Kolivan out in public with a rut either.
Usually, Kolivan’s more of a stay at home and wait it out kind of alpha, locked away in his room with his scent-blockers running full blast so that Keith neither sees nor smells him. It’s not likely he’ll react well to being out and about right now.
“No,” Kolivan says firmly. He offers no other explanation for several minutes while he appears to drive aimlessly through the unknown city. “I thought there was one…” he murmurs to himself, his low voice rumbling, before finally breathing a quietly triumphant “ah ha.”
He turns into underground parking and pulls up to an attendant kiosk set in front of a line of shiny elevators.
“Where..?” Keith begins to ask, but then his eyes catch the sign on the kiosk.
A heat hotel.
Kolivan has brought him to a heat hotel.
Shame paints Keith’s cheeks a violent shade of red. This shouldn’t be necessary. It’s not like this is his first march break! This is their yearly routine ever since Keith started university. So why is this happening now? It makes Keith feel like an inexperienced child.
Keith stares in disbelief at the sign long enough for Kolivan to grab his duffle bag and come around the truck to open the door for him. He’s ushered out without a word and kept at Kolivan’s side as they head to the kiosk.
There’s a friendly beta man waiting there who shows no sign that he can smell the pheromones radiating off them both in heavy waves.
“Tell me you have a room,” Kolivan says gruffly. He adds a “please” almost as an afterthought, but the man takes it in stride. They’re not the first alpha and omega pair coming in off the street like this.
“You’re in luck,” the man keeps his voice calm while still sounding pleasant, and he keeps his eyes pointedly away from Keith. He’s a smart man. “We’ve just had a cancellation and we have one room available. It’s our gardenview suite, so it is a bit more expensive..?” He waits for Kolivan’s nod.
“That’s fine.”
They trade Kolivan’s car keys for a pass to work the elevator, which takes them up to a private lobby to make the actual booking.
The elevator door’s open up to a gentle looking beta woman in an office that smells clinically clean in a very calming way. It takes the edge off Kolivan’s smell and soothes the immediate need of Keith’s oncoming heat.
Like the man below, this woman shows no sign of surprise at the state of them both. Her eyes scan over Keith where he stands several feet back and hidden in Kolivan’s shadow. If she takes note of their age difference she makes no sign of it, but still Keith blushes at the thought. He knows what this looks like, even if that’s not what it is. A part of him wants to tell her that, but another part of him is glad for the confusion. He likes that he could be mistaken for Kolivan’s omega.
Kolivan speaks with her quickly, exchanging information, credit card numbers, and room keys.
“Will you be needing any toys?” the woman offers sweetly when Kolivan begins to turn back to the elevator.
Kolivan looks to Keith.
Keith looks to his duffle bag.
“No, I’ve got a few,” he says sheepishly.
The woman nods and turns her eyes to Kolivan, “and you, sir? Do you need anything?”
Kolivan gives her a cool look and then turns away, shuffling Keith back to the elevators and riding up to their suite.
The room is only a suite only in the sense that it has a small kitchenette in front of the door, and a larger bedroom than Keith has ever seen in a hotel. The bathroom is huge, with a large tub and a separate shower, both of which would easily hold 2-3 people; but from the rumours Keith’s heard from some of his classmates it sounds like all heat hotels have large bathrooms. There are two large dressers along one wall, one empty and the other stocked with more blankets, pillows, and towels than Keith thinks he could ever use for one heat.
The bed takes up a significant portion of the room. A part of Keith – the heat-addled part of him – thrills to see that there is only one bed and no other place for Kolivan to sleep; the other, rational, more predominate part of Keith appreciates that the bed is big enough for Keith to build the biggest nest of his life and Kolivan would still have room on the end to sleep undisturbed.
Kolivan drops Keith’s duffle bag onto the bed and charges him with starting on his nest while he stalks off to the kitchenette to see what’s on offer there.
He returns with two handfuls of water bottles and lays them next to the duffle while Keith paws through his bag, looking for comfy shirts to add to his nest for a homey smell. Kolivan retreats quickly to lean against the wall on the far side of the room, his eyes sharp and his gaze cool as he survey’s Keith’s work.
Keith hums to himself as he works. The blankets and pillows of the hotel are wonderfully soft and cool to the touch. They are scentless in a way that isn’t obnoxious and Keith is certain he’ll have them smelling like him in no time.
Perhaps they’ll be smelling like him and Kolivan, since Kolivan will be in the room too; he can’t very well go anywhere else so close to a rut, and there’s no way he’d leave Keith unprotected during a heat.
Normally he’s nowhere to be seen during Keith’s heats, but that didn’t mean Keith wasn’t protected. Kolivan had bought Keith a high tech scent-blocker at the first sign of Keith’s first heat, and ever since Keith has hidden behind his wall of scent-blockers from start to finish. And even if Keith couldn’t see or smell his godfather, he always knew Kolivan was there, keeping guard on their apartment. Keeping Keith safe.
And now, with a heat and a rut at the same time, and both of them the closest to family the other has, there’s no way either of them is going anywhere.
Keith takes a deep breath to try and calm himself. Which, doesn’t help.
As nice as it is going to be to have Kolivan’s rut scent so handy during his heat, Keith is going to have to watch himself so he doesn’t do anything stupid. Like, life-ruining stupid.
The room starts to pick up Keith’s scent as he works, organizing pillows and blankets into a comforting circle and depositing water bottles at key intervals around the nest. He’ll have Kolivan here this time to make sure he had plenty of food and water, but it’s still better to be safe.
He’s glad to have done it when he places the last water bottle in place and hears a low, approving rumble from the corner. Kolivan appreciates preparedness, and Keith’s heart lightens at the indirect praise.
Keith paws through his duffle some more, his hands pausing over a heavy sweater he had stolen from Kolivan after his last visit. It smells of Keith more than Kolivan now, but it’s tempting to add in the nest anyway.
No. Keith shakes his head. It’s embarrassing to add because Kolivan will recognize it, and also because Kolivan has no clue Keith has taken it. Besides, he reminds himself again, he’ll have easy access to Kolivan’s scent. It’s already wafting back to Keith from the corner.
The next item Keith finds in his duffle makes his heart pound and his blush deepen. He wraps his fingers around the cord for his small egg vibrator. His soft silicone dildo is tucked away just beyond that.
Should he add them to the nest?
Usually, family member and friends’ scents are supposed to help soothe and calm an omega in heat so that they can get through it without the need for a knot. They just need a nest, somewhere soft and warm and safe, and then they ride it out with only a little bit of extra cramping. So, technically, as Keith’s only family, Kolivan’s scent should soothe him enough that he won’t need the toys.
Realistically, if Keith expects to get through a heat with Kolivan’s rut scent so close at hand, he is going to need these toys like no tomorrow.
Fuck! But this is going to be awkward.
Keith hides his hands with his body and pulls the toys discreetly from his bag. He pushes them under the blankets of his nest, out of sight until he’s too horny to feel the shame of using them in front of his godfather.
Keith gets everything ready then stands back in the centre of the room to survey his nest.
He smells Kolivan’s approach more than anything else. The tall, imposing alpha stands just out of reach, folding his arms over his chest as he looks over Keith’s nest as well.
“Good job, Keith,” he says sincerely, making Keith glow with pride.
He must smell Keith’s happiness because he turns away a moment later.
“You should eat before you start.”
Keith nods and follows Kolivan to the kitchenette.
~*~*~*~
Kolivan’s rut strikes first, while Keith is inspecting the large, full length windows behind gossamer curtains. The windows are tinted enough to let some light in during the day while keeping out any prying eyes. Kolivan does not like his standing there, despite the privacy screening.
There’s a possessiveness to the sudden rut smell that fills that room that makes Keith snap the blinds shut and spin on the spot. Kolivan stands at the centre of the room, breathing heavily. His eyes are dark and they are levelled at Keith with an intensity akin to glowering.
Keith gulps and takes a hesitant step forward. At Kolivan’s call, he trots over obediently.
The smell of Kolivan is stronger here, and it’s rolling off him like a heady perfume. Keith can’t help but breathe it in now, and it stokes the fires of his heat dangerously.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Kolivan asks, his eyes full of intelligence despite their darkness.
Keith nods.
When he was young, Kolivan had always wanted him close by for his ruts, to keep an eye on him, keep him from any danger. Now, Keith longs to wrap his arms around his godfather just like he used to, but he fears how unwise the gesture would be.
Keith’s heat is pounding in his chest now and working its way lower. It won’t be long now.
“Let’s get you into the nest,” Kolivan offers, lightly touching Keith’s arm to turn him towards the bed. He knows how close Keith is.
Keith stops at the edge of the bed and stares at it. The blankets of the nest are cool and inviting, and his shirt is soft and comfortable enough to leave on; but his pants are itchy and restrictive, and he doesn’t really want them anywhere in the nest. At the same time, however, Kolivan is right there and Keith wonders if taking his pants off now is too much.
He can feel the heavy stare from Kolivan as he dithers.
“You should get in, Keith.” There’s a gentleness to Kolivan’s voice Keith hasn’t heard in years and it makes the suggestion run through Keith’s spine like a command. His pants slip off quickly and he kicks them aside before scrambling into the middle of the nest and stretching himself out.
The cool cotton feels wonderful against his bare legs. Keith rolls in it for a moment, breathing deeply the scent of his clothes around him.
Kolivan’s approving rumble prompts Keith to raise up and pop his head out of the nest just in time to watch the large man crawl on the bed on the other side of Keith’s wall of pillows. Kolivan lies down on one of the few pillows Keith had left him, his golden eyes alert as Keith rearranges himself in the nest.
The pillow wall is perfectly comfortable and Keith stretches along top, resting his chin on his hand to gaze down at Kolivan.
They’re very close now. Close enough that the smell is getting to Keith’s head and drowning out some of his more rational thoughts.
Keith wriggles against the pillows and it’s a bad idea because he can feel his blood starting to head south. A few good grinds and he’ll be horny enough to start the heat. Damn, but it’s still so early! It wasn’t supposed to actually start till sometime tomorrow morning.
Keith and Kolivan hold each others’ gaze almost without blinking.
Finally, Keith speaks up.
“Kolivan..?”
“Hmm?”
Keith delights in the way the heavy sound carries across the small space.
“Can I scent you?” He feels sheepish for the question, but that fades when he sees Kolivan’s eyes light at the suggestion.
“You may.”
Most of Keith remains in his nest, cushioned by his wall of pillows built specifically to keep him from doing something inappropriate – like scenting. He leans over his self-made wall and tucks his nose into the corner of Kolivan’s neck.
Kolivan smells like dust after the rain, and like strong hands around a thin waist. He smells like home and safety, with just enough spice to make Keith burn.
He can feel Kolivan’s nose in his hair and hear the strong pull of his nostrils. The knowledge that Kolivan is scenting him too is almost as delicious as the actual act itself.
Almost.
Keith’s heat starts at that moment. He moans, long and low, as he takes another deep breath of Kolivan’s scents.
They stay like that for a long while, quietly scenting each other and taking comfort in their proximity. Kolivan’s hand ruffles through Keith’s hair, soothing the soft noises Keith can’t help but make.
It takes a lot of effort for Keith to pretend that this is platonic scenting. He can hide his erection in the pillows that surround his waist but it’s harder to hide the slow deliberate grind of his hips through those same pillows.
After a time, Keith nuzzles closer and grabs a fistful of Kolivan’s shirt, holding it close like he needs it to keep himself in line.
The call of the heat is inexorable. The pressure of the pillows against his dick is wonderful but it’s not enough, Keith can’t help but to grind harder, his knees bending for purchase in the blankets. He tries to keep the movements subtle, tries not to move or shake the bed too much. Briefly he thinks it might be working.
But he’s forgotten about his own smell.
Forgotten how arousal on an omega in heat permeates even the largest of rooms. Forgotten that the small sounds he is making sound less like contentment and more like desire the louder they get.
He forgets it all until Kolivan tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and says in his deep voice, “Keith, you don’t have to ignore your heat for me. I know you have needs you must take care of.”
“But,” Keith pulls back to protest, but is stopped by Kolivan rolling forward to sit up, pulling his shirt over his head in one smooth motion.
“Here,” he offers.
Keith takes the shirt gratefully and presses it to his face with a moan. Kolivan’s eyes stay on Keith, watching with unblinking intensity as Keith inhales his rut-scented shirt. The scent isn’t as potent as having Kolivan’s scent gland under his nose, but a shirt definitely more portable.
There’s a bittersweet yearning pulling low at Keith’s gut as he rolls back into his nest, hidden behind his pillows. He breathes deeply into the shirt as he slips a hand under the waistband of his boxers. He’s already so hard. So wet. So everything.
“Don’t look,” he requests, biting the shirt to stifle a moan.
“Ok.”
Keith pulls on himself slowly, knowing it’s important to pace himself at the beginning. He practically gags himself on Kolivan’s shirt to keep himself quiet. He can’t do anything about the smell of his arousal or the pooling slick between his legs, but at least his can control the sounds.
He uses a slow, tight fist; his eyes scrunched tight. Every gasping breath is laced with Kolivan’s heady scent. He’s close. Very close. It feels so good. Kolivan is so close. There’s nothing but pillows and hot air between them.
His godfather’s deep voice interrupts Keith’s thoughts. “Keith? Are you ok? I can’t hear you.”
For a brief moment Keith thinks Kolivan must be daft. Even with his shirt as a gag, how can Kolivan not hear the soft fapping noises of Keith’s fist?
Then Keith remembers that Kolivan is in rut. He’s in rut and Keith has requested that he not look. Kolivan’s careful eye has never left him for more than a minute – not when it counted.
Kolivan needs the assurance that Keith is all right.
He needs Keith to be loud.
“I-I’m good,” Keith gasps, lifting the shirt just enough to let out a soft, pleased moan. It feels like a key has turned inside him, unlocking new depths to his arousal. Being vocal – letting Kolivan hear him makes every stroke of his fist feel sweeter.
Kolivan rumbles in response. “Good boy. Let me hear you.”
Keith gasps again, loud enough it’s almost a shout, and spills into his own hands.
The moment it’s over, reality crashes around Keith’s ears. Surely, Kolivan can tell what he’s just done and Keith is mortified. What if Kolivan (rightly) assumes that it was his voice, his request, his approval that tipped Keith over that edge?
Keith heaves a breath, trying in vain to calm himself. The air is heavy with a mix of his and Kolivan’s scents, and it fills him like a drug.
But then…
Kolivan’s scent has changed.
It’s subtle, but it’s there. The scent on the air is different from the one in Keith’s hands.
Keith’s stomach twists at the implications: Kolivan smells aroused.