Work Text:
It all started with a text.
A text from Harry’s friend Liam, which comes through just as Harry’s finishing up an email to his team about the project they finished last week. Setting his blue light eyeglasses aside, he pushes his rolling chair back from his desk, grateful for the reprieve. It’s almost seven, he should have shut down his work computer by now, but it’s been hard finding the balance since he moved and started working from home. He doesn’t have any local friends yet to pull him away from his inbox, and if he knows Liam, that’s exactly what his text will be about.
And the thing is, he loves Liam. He knows that Liam just wants to help. But it’s embarrassing to be set up on blind friendship dates. It’s not like he’s some hopeless loser who needs the help; it’s harder for everyone to make friends as an adult. It just is. And besides, Liam is a terrible matchmaker. He likes everyone and assumes that everyone else does too. And maybe Harry’s a dick, but he just… doesn’t. It takes him a while to build connections with people, and Liam’s setups always leave him feeling like a failure for not hitting it off right away with every person he comes into contact with.
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Harry unlocks his phone to read the text. As he expected, Liam has a new friend for him, someone named Niall who needs a “favor.” He doesn’t have much time to try and suss out why the quote marks are necessary because apparently this Niall person will be FaceTiming him at seven. A second text encourages him to be kind and reminds him about their college friends’ plans for a Zoom happy hour next week. Harry rolls his eyes and sends a thumbs up emoji before getting up to go to the bathroom.
He washes his hands and then splashes some water on his face. After patting his face dry, he tilts his head at his reflection, taking in his ringer tee and slightly wild curls. When he’s stressed, he rakes his hands through his hair, and apparently he’d been more stressed that day than he realized. It’s not worth changing or fixing his hair for a FaceTime with some random person Liam knows who needs a “favor” so Harry heads out to the backyard so he can soak up some post-daylight saving sunshine while he hears Niall out.
The call comes through at seven on the dot and Harry props his phone up against a candle on the patio table before he accepts it.
“Hi,” he says, waving his hand at the man on the screen as he drags the syllable out. “’M Harry. You must be Niall.”
Niall nods and Harry leans in, squinting at the screen as he watches the motion. It’s almost like Niall’s head weighs a ton or something; he moves slowly, and his chest rises and falls as though he’s breathing harder from exertion.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Niall says immediately before wincing. “Well, no, I’m not actually. Look, this is kind of embarrassing–”
“No more embarrassing than any other time Liam has tried to set me up with one of his friends.”
“Gimme a minute before you make up your mind about that one.” Niall gives him a wry smile before taking a few deep breaths. “Listen, my alpha and I broke up and it turns out that all of our friends were really his friends and I need someone to help me through–”
“No,” Harry practically shouts, the word bursting out of him unbidden. He cringes when he sees the shock on Niall’s face, his pale skin flushing lightly. “I’m sorry, but my answer has to be no. I don’t help omegas through heats. I’m really sorry, Liam knows that, so I don’t know why he would give you the idea–”
“It’s not heat, Harry,” Niall interrupts. “It’s depri.”
“Oh. Fuck.”
Touch deprivation makes a lot of sense now that Harry thinks about it. Niall seems generally unwell; he appears to be weak, his skin is pallid and his lips look chapped, and his breathing is ragged. He’s wearing a cozy-looking sweatshirt, but even over FaceTime, he kind of seems cold, hunched over with his arms wrapped around his body. Harry’s never been around an omega in depri as bad off as Niall looks; most of the time, there’s an alpha friend or family member who can help out with scenting and physical contact.
Oh.
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t ask, but in case you can’t tell from the state of me–” Niall gestures toward his body “–I’m desperate. Do you have any leave saved up? My doctor recommended a week’s stay with an alpha, and now that Liam, well, introduced us, you’re the only one I know in the city.”
Harry bites his lip as he considers his options. He could say no. It’s not like he’s obligated to help Niall, he doesn’t even know him. And there are probably all kinds of alternative treatments his doctor could try. Or he could help Niall find someone else. But he doesn’t really know anyone here yet. Or… or he could actually use the leave time allotted by his company for heats, something he’s never done before, and take a break from being glued to his work computer for a week. Be a good Samaritan. Get out of his house. Maybe actually make a new friend.
“Harry? Sorry to put the pressure on, but I can’t really sit here and watch you frown at your phone much longer, I really need to go lie down. So… can you help me?”
“Yeah,” Harry says, surprising Niall by the looks of it as well as himself. Until that moment, he hadn’t been sure what he was going to say but it just feels right to help Niall out. He clears his throat and nods. “Yeah, I’ll help you.”
*
The next day, after contacting his manager and tying up loose ends at work, Harry arrives at Niall’s house around lunchtime with takeout and a suitcase. It’s not far from Harry’s rental; he’s surprised they haven’t run into each other at the coffee shop or park. He takes a moment on the porch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He repeats a mantra from one of his guided meditation cards a few times, moving his lips silently. Once he feels ready, he opens his eyes and lifts a hand to knock on the door.
But before he has a chance to knock, the door swings open. Niall leans against it, a knowing smile on his pale face. He holds up his phone, the screen displaying video of Harry on the porch that must be coming from one of those smart doorbell cameras. Harry blushes. He must have been standing there with his eyes closed for longer than he thought. Without saying a word, Niall gestures for Harry to follow him as he turns and shuffles down a hallway that leads to a bright, airy living room. There’s a large, comfortable looking couch opposite a flat screen TV and Niall heads straight for it, sitting down on the middle cushion and pulling a blanket over his legs.
Harry hovers in the doorway, taking in his surroundings. The walls are a stark white but warmed by a couple of art prints in hues of green. There’s a little clutter, some books and magazines and a pair of sunglasses, but it’s neatly arranged instead of strewn about like in Harry’s house. A couple of guitars are propped against one wall, reminding Harry of the week he attempted lessons and then promptly gave up on finding out how hard it was to learn to play. It’s a home, not just a house, and Harry’s a big enough person to admit to himself that he’s jealous.
“D’you bring lunch?”
“Yeah, yeah, hope burgers are okay. Figured you could use something hearty.”
Leaving his suitcase by the doorway, Harry walks over to the couch and starts taking the wrapped food out of the bag. At Niall’s nod, he sets their hamburgers and fries on the coffee table along with the stack of paper napkins that had been shoved in the bag with their food. When asked, Niall points in the direction of the kitchen, which is sparkling clean and appears to be well organized. Harry finds bottled water in the fridge and grabs a butter knife from one of the drawers before heading back into the living room where he finds Niall sitting back, his head tipped against the cushion.
“Thought you’d be digging in,” Harry says, settling on the couch next to him. He puts the bottles of water on the table along with the knife. “Do you like Five Guys?”
“Love it usually. Don’t feel very hungry though.”
If Harry had to guess, he’d say that Niall has barely eaten in days. He’s pretty sure Niall only expects proximity during their week together, not a nurse or a caregiver, but he can’t just sit by and let him starve.
“I got an everything burger and a plain because I wasn’t sure what you liked. Do you think you could get down half of one? A third?”
He’d expected an eye roll, but Niall just looks at the food on the table, clearly contemplating his options. Lifting a hand a few inches off his lap, he points.
“Plain, I think.”
Harry unwraps the plain burger and cuts a decent size piece of it. He hands it to Niall, who gives him a grateful nod, and then he balances a small cup of fries on Niall’s lap. Only then does he notice that the Netflix home screen is up on the TV.
“What do you want to watch?” he asks, arranging his own meal in front of him.
“Kinda wanted to start Stranger Things. I’ve never seen it.”
He lifts his eyebrows in a silent question and Harry tries to school his face in a neutral expression. It’s just that Harry’s more of a rom com fan and he prefers to rewatch things he’s already seen. He likes knowing what to expect, knowing what’s going to happen. It feels safe. But this whole week is going to be an exercise in the unknown, so the show they watch might as well be too. Niall takes a bite of burger, waiting wordlessly, and Harry nods.
“Sure, let’s do it.”
Luckily Harry has other things to focus on than the show, first his lunch and then tucking Niall under his arm and scenting him, because if he had to pay full attention to the monster and underground world on the TV, he might just run screaming from Niall’s house. And he did make a promise to stay. Not that he could get away, what with how Niall is glued to his side, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. After a couple of episodes, Niall’s eyelids start to droop, and Harry makes an executive decision that he needs a nap. A proper one.
“Come on, you should get in bed. Or…” Harry bites his lip, turning the words over in his mind before deciding to risk offending Niall. “Or do you have a nest?”
Niall’s face crumples and Harry panics.
“Sorry! I’m sorry, oh god, that was really insensitive. I’m so sorry, I know a nest is something that can be so personal–”
“It’s not that.”
To Harry’s horror, tears well up in Niall’s light blue eyes.
“What– what is it then? You can tell me.”
“I can’t get it right,” Niall mumbles, his eyes on his lap. “The nest. It’s too messy. I need it to be neater, I like things kind of perfect. And it’s not even worth it, there’s no… there’s no scent left anyway.”
That’s one of the signs of how advanced Niall’s case is; Harry doesn’t even know what Niall’s scent is. It’s like cuddling with a beta. He wraps his arms around Niall, scenting him again even though the air is already thick with the fragrance of jasmine. He kind of wants to press a kiss to the top of his head, but he holds back. The lines in their arrangement aren’t clearly defined yet, and he’s just supposed to be helping a new friend get well, not trying to find a mate.
“I brought some things for you. For, um… your nest. If you want.”
Niall pulls back just far enough to look up at him.
“You did?”
“Yeah, wanna go take a look?”
Niall nods and Harry helps him up, keeping a close eye on him even though he’s pretty steady on his feet. After grabbing his suitcase, he follows Niall into the master bedroom, looking toward the neatly made bed. Shaking his head, Niall points to a doorway leading to a walk-in closet. Harry sees the problem immediately. The jumble of clothes on the floor, with a couple of pillows and a blanket toward one side, is discordant with the rest of the house. Of course it’s causing Niall anxiety; even in the short time he’s known him, Harry can’t see how he’d be able to relax like this. He kneels down and unzips his suitcase.
“Want to see what I brought?”
Niall sits on the floor next to him, nodding as he peers inside the suitcase with apparent interest. There’s a whole stack of sweatshirts, a few cardigans and one fur vest that Harry thought might feel nice against Niall’s skin. He didn’t think to bring any blankets, though, and he’s just about to apologize for that when he notices how Niall’s thin lips are curved in a soft smile. He reaches out and runs his palm over the vest, looking over at Harry.
“This yours?”
“Yeah, I usually pair it with a t-shirt and some skinnies.” Harry shrugs, self-conscious. He doesn’t know Niall well enough yet to be able to read his tone. “I like it.”
“No judgment,” Niall says, shrugging back. “Feels nice.”
A piece of the ice between them breaks and Harry grins. He sets the vest aside, planning on wearing it the next day, and shoves his suitcase out of the way.
“Alright,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s see what we can do.”
Niall sits in the corner, listless and quiet, nodding when Harry does something right and whining softly when he gets something wrong. Paying careful attention to the subtle cues, Harry makes painstaking work out of arranging Niall’s nest for him, scenting each piece of fabric and making sure his lines are nice and neat. It’s the first time he’s ever built a nest and, if he’s honest, he gets the appeal. He kind of wishes alphas were encouraged to make their own self-soothing spaces like this, instead of placing all their importance on aggression and protecting omegas who, in his experience, don’t usually need it as much as alphas would have you believe. It’s not the first time Harry has thought that he was probably born into the wrong secondary gender and, as he smooths out the last wrinkle, he thinks that it won’t be the last.
“Well?” He looks over his shoulder at Niall. “What do you think?”
“It looks so much better.” Niall smiles at him, and Harry gets a glimpse of how handsome he must be when he’s well. “Thank you, Harry. You didn’t have to do that.”
“’Course I did,” Harry replies, literally waving off the comment with an awkward hand gesture. He’s never been good at accepting compliments. “Okay, do you want to nap alone? Do you want me to stay?”
“Can you stay? Sorry, I know you’re probably not tired.”
“I’ve got entertainment.” Harry holds up his phone. “And I might nap some, too. I didn’t sleep that great last night.”
“Nervous?”
“Yeah, a bit. Don’t want to fuck this up.”
“You have no idea how much you’re helping.” Niall shakes his head as he crawls into the nest. “I’m really grateful, Harry. When this is over, anytime you need anything, you know who to go to.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Harry says, even though he doubts he will. “Comfy?”
“It’s perfect.” Niall curls up on the right side of the nest, smushing his face against the pillow. “Perfect.”
Harry preens, his chest puffing with pride at a job well done, but Niall’s already asleep so he lies down next to him. After deciding against outright spooning, he scoots as close as he can to Niall’s side, so his omega will be sure to sense his presence, and then he unlocks his phone and settles in for a couple of hours.
But Niall doesn’t just sleep for a couple of hours. He sleeps for twelve.
At first, Harry had been pretty freaked out, but Google assured him that this was normal for an omega experiencing a severe case of depri. He tests getting up and leaving the nest for short periods of time, going to the bathroom and grabbing another bottle of water, and Niall seems fine, so he decides not to worry about it until the next day. When it gets close to dinner time, Harry checks the pantry and fridge and decides he needs to do a grocery delivery. He adds a couple of salad kits when selecting items on his app, wanting to balance out the heavy lunch, and adds to the special notes that he doesn’t want the delivery person to ring the bell so Niall won’t be disturbed. The rest of the day is pretty uneventful; he puts groceries away according to the labels that Niall has affixed to the shelves, and grabs one of the books he brought to pass the time while he hangs out with a sleeping Niall in the nest.
When Niall wakes up around three in the morning, Harry wakes up too. He rubs his eyes, surprised that he’s so attuned to the omega next to him considering they just met. After he goes to the bathroom, Niall peeks into the walk-in closet and grimaces when he realizes that Harry is awake.
“Sorry, man. I’m really fucking up your sleep schedule now, huh?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry says, throwing off his blanket. “Let me get you something to eat.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. I got groceries in. How does oatmeal with honey drizzled on top sound?”
Niall’s stomach growls and he shrugs, smiling. “I guess you can tell that sounds great.”
Niall sits at the small table in the kitchen, watching as Harry prepares his oatmeal. As he eats, they talk softly, trading the kind of autobiographical details that people usually know before they agree to spend a week together. It doesn’t feel weird, though, it just feels… nice. Natural. Like maybe this time Liam actually got a setup right. Not that Harry’s going to tell him that. When Niall has eaten half of the bowl of oatmeal and pushed it aside, Harry leads him back to the nest and they get a few more hours’ sleep.
After he showers the next morning, Harry rummages through his suitcase to find clothes to go along with his vest. He unearths a box of herbal tea that he’d forgotten he packed and promises to brew some. Niall eyes his suitcase from the nest.
“What else did you bring?”
“Um…” Harry pinches his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s kind of silly?”
“You can tell me.”
“It’s just a candle from this brand I like.” Harry holds up the box for Niall to see. “Diptyque.”
“Oh yeah, I know Diptyque. The scents aren’t–”
“Synthetic,” Harry finishes, grinning. “Yeah. This one is pretty close to mine, so it won’t confuse your omega.”
“Subtle yet persistent. Tender yet voluptuous.”
Harry’s jaw practically drops but before he can think of a response, Niall lifts a hand to point toward the box.
“’S what it says on the label.”
“Oh!” Harry looks at the box where it does indeed describe the jasmine scent that way. “Oh, yeah, yeah, I knew that. Yeah.”
“Yeah.” The corner of Niall’s mouth curves in what would probably pass as a smirk if he had more energy, but he doesn’t say anything else as Harry finishes getting ready. He accepts Harry’s hand helping him up, and runs his hand over the fur vest, right over Harry’s heart. “Soft.”
Something about the touch, the casual intimacy of it, makes Harry’s heart race, and he’s grateful that the thick material most likely prevented Niall from being able to feel it. He leads the way to the living room and deposits Niall on the couch. Resting his head on the cushion, Niall watches idly as Harry flutters about, lighting the candle on the coffee table and bringing him tea and toast. He wraps an arm around Niall, scenting him, as Niall uses the remote to put on another episode of Stranger Things. Oh, well. Maybe watching during the morning will make it less scary. Bad things don’t really happen in the morning.
“Fuck,” Niall cries at one point, an indeterminate amount of episodes later. It’s the loudest that Harry’s ever heard him speak and he jumps. “Fuck, shit, sorry. This shit is freaking me out.”
“Let’s turn it off for a while,” Harry suggests, grabbing the remote to do just that. “There. What do you want to do now? Nap?”
“Nah, I’ll have nightmares if I try to fall asleep now. I need a distraction.”
There’s a long pause, only a little awkward, as Harry wracks his brain. He’s about to suggest a Great British Bake Off marathon, it’s the most soothing show he can think of, when Niall turns to him.
“How come you don’t help omegas through their heats?”
Harry just about chokes on his own spit, coughing for a moment as he catches his breath.
“Sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I was just curious, you seemed so adamant the first time we talked.”
“No, it’s okay, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting that. You caught me off guard.” Harry laughs, the fake small talk laugh that gets him through meetings at work, hoping Niall won’t notice that he’s rattled. From the look on Niall’s face, he’s not buying it. “So, um… yeah. Heats. I’ve never actually helped an omega through one because I’m… well, I’m not, uh… I think I’m on the asexuality spectrum.”
Harry cringes at the vocal fry that causes his statement to sound more like a question for Niall to answer. He wishes he hadn’t phrased it that way; he doesn’t need Niall or anyone else to confirm or validate what he already knows about himself. He glances at Niall, unsure if he should continue or not, but Niall doesn’t seem skeptical or judgmental or like he’s about to tell Harry how he must be wrong or anything like that. He just looks mildly interested. And tired. Mostly tired.
“I mean, I know I am. I say spectrum because it’s not that I’m never, like, sexually attracted to anyone; for me, it fluctuates. It’s just kind of a wavelength or something. Most of the time, I just don’t feel like having sex but it ebbs and flows and sometimes there’s like a…”
“Crest?”
“Yeah, exactly. And some of the, uh, crests last longer than others.”
“Do you mind if I ask what you do during rut?”
“A lot of ice baths, usually,” Harry says ruefully. “I hate, um…”
Niall winces in what Harry thinks is sympathy. “Like… your knot? The, um, popping?”
“Yeah.” Harry exhales a shuddery breath. “I hate the way it feels, it’s like it’s not even a part of me. The sex I’ve actually enjoyed has been, like, more third base kind of stuff, I guess. It makes dating kind of hard, the whole not wanting to knot someone thing. I haven’t really tried in a while, it’s not worth it.”
“I don’t know.” Niall shrugs. “I feel like the person you’re with is more important that the, uh, mechanics of what you’re doing.”
Harry blinks as he processes that. He’s heard it before, from omegas who ended up breaking things off when it turned out not to be true for them, but something in Niall’s voice makes him believe that he means it.
“So you don’t think I’m, like, a shitty alpha or anything?”
“Are you kidding? There’s more to being an alpha than a knot. And I know they get tangled up, but who you are as a person is more important than your secondary gender anyway.”
Niall snuggles into Harry’s side, pulling the blanket over their laps higher, just as Harry is feeling raw and exposed. The weird thing is that it’s barely been a day, but he feels a connection to Niall that he didn’t expect. He chews his lip, worried that taking care of Niall is starting to confuse his alpha. He doesn’t want to form an unwelcome attachment to someone who’s in a vulnerable position just because they said a few nice things to him. He’s not that pathetic. Although the content purr starting to rumble through his chest after that last bit of Niall’s validation might suggest otherwise.
“You wanna pick something to put on?” Niall looks up at him. “I can tell you hate Stranger Things. We don’t have to keep watching it.”
Harry huffs a laugh and scrubs a hand over his face. “I do, I hate it! I don’t know how people stand it, it’s too creepy.” He picks up the remote and navigates to Bake Off on Netflix, picking his favorite season to start.
“Hey, uh, Harry?”
“Yeah, Niall?”
“Thanks for telling me all that. You don’t seem like the type to tell every person you meet your life story so I, uh, just appreciate it. You trusting me.”
“Well, thanks for not judging me. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people have said to me about how alphas can’t be ace.”
“I think I would,” Niall says wryly. “Most people are cunts.”
A strangled honk of laughter escapes Harry’s lips and he claps a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he laughs at the sound. Niall smiles, his brightest one yet since Harry arrived, and Harry starts to suspect that startling him into a laugh was Niall’s intention. He might be in trouble if this keeps up, if his alpha keeps confusing friendship for a potential bondmate. As the episode starts to play on the screen and they both turn to watch, he tries to brush his concerns off. He’ll just get through the week, help Niall get well, and be on his way.
No problem.
The rest of the day passes in much the same way, except that Niall’s afternoon nap only lasts about an hour. They watch a whole season of Bake Off, and Harry tells Niall about the bakery he used to work at when he was in high school. Niall laughs at him when he explains that he mainly worked the cash register, but he really likes baking now that he’s an adult with his own kitchen so he tells people that he used to be a baker. Harry protests but secretly he kind of likes the way that Niall laughs at him. It’s not mean, it feels more like a friendship level unlocked or something. He has a feeling that Niall only laughs at people he cares about.
There’s some color in Niall’s face the next morning and he feels well enough to sit with Harry outside in the sunshine in just a t-shirt instead of the oversize hoodies he’s been drowning in. Harry has his arm around Niall and he can’t help running his fingertips over the soft skin just below Niall’s sleeve. The skin’s not as warm as he would like, but it’s velvety smooth and, frankly, touching it is kind of addictive.
“You have really soft skin,” he says, without really planning to. He stops stroking Niall’s arm, suddenly self-conscious, but Niall just laughs.
“If you think my arm is soft, you should try my face.” Niall tips head back, his eyes drifting closed. He raises his eyebrows. “Go on, H. Touch my cheek.”
Harry exhales, and slowly lifts his hand, waiting for Niall to say he was only joking. But he doesn’t, he just sits very still, his eyes still closed as he apparently waits for Harry to stroke his cheek. Which he does, if a bit hesitantly.
“Soft,” he says, wincing when it comes out more as a whisper. “’S nice.”
“Right? I do face masks. Gotta keep my skin hydrated and all that.”
“Really? Can we do one? I love face masks.”
Niall cracks a smile that almost resembles a grin. “Yeah, let’s do it. After lunch?”
“After lunch.”
They soak up the sun awhile longer, and then Harry makes tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Niall sits at the table and watches, laughing when Harry cuts his sandwich into four triangles. Harry pretends to ignore him, but secretly he’s pleased that Niall noticed. He’s enjoying taking care of Niall like this, cooking for him and making sure he’s getting enough sleep, more than he thought he would. He’s never really gotten a chance to do this for anyone; people expect the dynamic to go the other way, for omegas to fuss over alphas.
It’s just… nice.
True to his word, after lunch, Niall shows Harry the drawer in the bathroom where he keeps a wide selection of face masks. It’s hard to hide his smile as Niall talks him through the benefits of each one, but Harry manages to nod and murmur in acknowledgement without giving away how cute he thinks Niall is being. When Niall gets to the bottom of the drawer, Harry notices a bottle of nail polish in the corner.
“Is that yours?” he asks, trying to keep tone neutral. It’s much more socially acceptable for male omegas to wear nail polish than it is for alphas, but Niall doesn’t really seem the type.
“Nah, someone must have left it here.” Niall picks up the bottle. “That’s a nice red.”
“Yeah, a nice red,” Harry agrees, trying not to be obvious about the fact that he suddenly and desperately wants to use it on his nails. His parents had never minded when he played with his older sister’s nail polish when he was younger, but the way that the other kids had reacted in school had nipped that blossoming habit in the bud pretty quickly.
Wow. He hasn’t let himself think about that in years.
“Would look nice on you,” Niall says, holding the bottle out to Harry. “You want to try it out?”
Harry blushes, wondering how someone he met just a few days ago already has him figured out. He has friends who’ve known him for years who he doesn’t think would ever offer him nail polish. He takes the bottle from Niall, turning it over in his hands.
“And I think you should try the peppermint mask, okay? It’s supposed to be rejuvenating.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Niall gives him a headband, instructing him to make sure his hair is out of his face, and they help each other apply the sheet masks. After setting a timer on his phone, Harry unscrews the cap on the bottle of nail polish and lifts the brush, wiping the excess on the neck of the bottle before slowly dragging it along his thumbnail. Niall nods approvingly, and Harry keeps going, careful not to smudge or get polish on his skin. His hand is shaking, just a little, but he thinks he’s doing a decent job. The shock of bright red looks nice on his nails, and he bites his lip, unsure how to thank Niall for this.
“Here,” Niall says, taking the bottle away from him. “Let me do your right hand.”
Harry’s breath catches as Niall takes his hand and starts carefully painting his nails. He’s slow, methodical, and better than Harry is at it. He’s just finishing up Harry’s pinky when the timer that Harry set goes off, causing both of them to jump.
“I almost forgot we had these on,” Niall says, gesturing toward the mask covering his face. “You sit there, I’ll take mine off and then help with yours. Don’t wanna ruin your nails.”
Niall peels off his mask and rinses his face before patting it dry with a hand towel that he then throws in the hamper. Then he turns to Harry and bends down, gently removing the mask from Harry’s face. Harry can scarcely breathe, but he’s not sure why. The close proximity is the whole point of this week; he should be used to it by now. He sighs a shuddery breath as Niall wets a washcloth before gently wiping Harry’s face with it. Once he pats Harry’s face dry with another towel, he carefully pulls the headband off, patting Harry’s curls.
Harry doesn’t know what to do or what to say, so he just sits there, looking up at Niall. Who, he’s now noticing, looks exhausted.
“Nap time,” Harry declares. “This was too much physical activity, I think. You’re tired.”
“Are you kidding me? This was barely activity, H.”
Despite his protests, Niall turns and heads for the nest, and Harry takes a moment to compose himself before he follows him in. His nerves are on fire, so he’s awake long after Niall drifts off, holding his hands out in front of him and taking in the red polish.
He really likes it is the thing.
And Niall didn’t think it was a big deal for him to paint his nails. Niall actually helped him paint his nails. He glances over at the sleeping omega next to him, wondering about his scent. Wondering if whatever it is will complement Harry’s jasmine. He huffs a sigh and turns on his side, facing away from Niall. It’s going to be a long week if his alpha keeps getting confused like this. He hadn’t gone into the details of his dating history with Niall, but it’s riddled with rejection. The kind that leaves a scar. And he really doesn’t want to start falling for someone who’s not going to fall for him back.
*
By their third morning together, they have a firmly established routine. Harry gets up first and takes a shower, and Niall uses the bathroom to wash up while Harry gets dressed. Niall rests on the couch while Harry fixes breakfast. They watch TV while they eat and then Harry gets them each a second cup of tea (one sugar for Harry, plain for Niall). The next few hours are spent cuddling with plenty of scenting. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but Harry thinks that Niall is starting to look better. His body language is more relaxed, he’s not so hunched over anymore, and as they walk to the kitchen for lunch, he’s surprised to notice that Niall is actually about the same height as him and not the couple inches shorter that he had thought.
After taking his place at the table, Niall pulls out his phone and puts on a playlist that starts with an Eagles song that Harry can’t quite place. Niall drums his fingers against the table and Harry bites back his smile as he grabs ingredients for chicken noodle soup. They talk about the playlist as it goes on, discovering that both of their dads influenced their taste in music from a young age. Harry’s favorite band is Fleetwood Mac but Niall prefers The Eagles, although they’ve both seen both in concert. By the time Harry carries the bowls of homemade soup to the table, Niall is talking about how “Peaceful Easy Feeling” is the first song he learned to play on the guitar so Harry decides to confess that he always wanted to learn but never did.
“Eat your soup,” Niall says, lifting his spoon. “Then I’m giving you a lesson.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Listen, H, I like Bake Off as much as the next guy, but I’m ready for a break from biscuits and custard, aren’t you?”
Harry pouts, but nods. “But do you feel well enough–”
“It’s not that much more strenuous than watching TV,” Niall points out. “But if I get tired, we’ll just go nap in our nest.”
Harry chokes on the spoonful of soup he was swallowing, but Niall doesn’t seem to realize the slip.
“You okay?”
Harry splutters a cough but nods as he starts to catch his breath. “Great. I’m great.”
Our nest. Maybe Niall’s omega is getting confused too. Or maybe he noticed that the nest makes Harry wistful for one of his own. If he’s learned anything about Niall over the past few days, it’s how perceptive he is. It’s a double-edged sword, being seen for who he really is like this. On the one hand, Niall doesn’t judge him for not being the prototypical alpha and that makes him feel safe. But on the other hand, it makes Harry think about things he’s gotten very good at not thinking about. And he’s not used to letting himself feel this vulnerable. It’s kind of exhausting, and Harry will be ready for a nap (in Niall’s nest) when the time comes.
Niall was right about the guitar lesson; it’s not that strenuous. They sit facing each other on the couch, each with a guitar in hand, and Niall takes Harry through the chords, gently correcting his finger placement when he needs to – which is often. Harry keeps messing up, his fingers clumsy, and he remembers why he quit the first time he tried to learn. But Niall is a patient teacher, encouraging him through every mistake, and eventually Harry plucks out a few chords that actually sound like music. When Niall lifts his hand for a high-five, Harry lightly slaps it, tangling their fingers together.
“That’s good for now, yeah?”
“Yeah, that was awesome, Ni. Thank you.”
Niall squeezes his hand. “No problem, H. Let’s go nap, you wore me out.”
Harry takes Niall’s guitar and places both of them against the wall, glancing over his shoulder to see if he gets a nod of approval. Once he does, he holds his hand out and Niall takes it and they walk to the nest with their hands linked. Harry doesn’t realize how weird it is until Niall lets go to lie down. Despite all of the doctor-ordered cuddling, they haven’t held hands much. As he lies down, Harry’s mind races; he can’t stop thinking about it. It just felt natural to take Niall’s hand. It’s the kind of affection that Harry hadn’t let himself realize how much he’d been craving. If only it were more normalized for friends to be physically affectionate without the threat of disease hanging over their heads. Then maybe Harry, who really doesn’t date much, wouldn’t be in such dire need of it.
Maybe he needed this week just as much as Niall did.
He’s barely had time to absorb the punch in the gut of that thought before Niall huffs a sigh and tugs at his pillow and blanket.
“Can’t get comfortable?”
Niall flops onto his back, frowning. “No. And I’m so tired, I just want to sleep.”
“Um, here,” Harry says, gesturing for Niall to turn on his side. “Let me try something.”
He scoots close to Niall’s back, wrapping his arm around Niall’s side. Niall melts into the touch, his body totally relaxes, as he sighs again, this time sounding more content.
“Thanks, H. This is great.”
“Yeah. Great.”
Even though he’s exhausted, it takes a long time for Harry to fall asleep. Every nerve ending in his body is on high alert, and he keeps scenting Niall without even meaning to, emitting soothing pheromones that Niall doesn’t appear to need considering he’s fast asleep. Some instinct tells him to sniff the back of Niall’s neck, and he swears he can almost pick up a hint of Niall’s scent but it’s elusive, just out of reach, driving him crazy. He runs through possibilities in his head as he tries to fall asleep, as if he’s counting sheep. He has a feeling Niall’s scent isn’t floral, but it could be something light like lemongrass. Or maybe vanilla – not the sweet kind, but the rich kind where you swear you can almost taste the vanilla bean when you’re in their presence. Or maybe something woodsy, like evergreen.
He finally drifts off, the warmth of the nest and the feel of Niall in his arms lulling him to sleep.
*
There’s more color in Niall’s face the next day and Harry swears there’s almost a bounce in his step. So when Niall suggests walking to the coffee shop for iced coffee that afternoon, Harry agrees without hesitation. He puts on his fur vest at Niall’s suggestion and they both slide on sunglasses as they walk into the fresh spring air. He wraps an arm around Niall’s shoulder, keeping him close and scenting him. He tells himself that it’s just to help with the depri, but deep down he knows that his alpha is feeling possessive now that they’re out in public for the first time, wanting everyone to know Niall is his. He feels stupid, but he can’t really blame himself. It’s just instinct.
They take their time, in no rush, both of them aware that Niall could overdo it. As they amble along, they laugh about how they’ve never run into each other at the coffee shop before since both of them frequent it fairly often. It turns out they both moved to the area around the same time; Harry to be close to an office that he ended up hardly ever going in to and Niall to move in with his ex. Harry has a weird urge to growl at the reminder of the alpha who left Niall in such a state, but he manages to restrain himself to curling his lip. He may not be an ideal alpha in the eyes of the world, but Harry would never do that to someone.
“H.” Niall grips his waist to get his attention. “Come on, we’re here. You were about to walk right by it.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Harry shrugs sheepishly and hopes Niall doesn’t ask what he was thinking about. To his relief, the omega just smiles fondly at him and then holds the door open. “Oh! Oh, um. Thanks.”
It’s fairly empty inside so they head right up to counter to order their iced coffees. Niall hands over his card before Harry can even reach for his wallet, and he doesn’t bother protesting. It’s kind of nice to let Niall take charge a bit, it means Harry can relax and not bother to think about posturing. That is, until he catches the barista looking at his nail polish. A moment ago, all he’d been able to smell were the pleasant aromas of the coffee served at the shop but now something burns his nostrils, the acrid scent of disapproval, maybe even disgust. Luckily Niall seems to notice at the same time and takes Harry’s hand in his, shooting the woman a look as if challenging her to say something. She merely shakes her head and finishes preparing their drinks before placing them on the counter and turning away without a word.
“Come on, H,” Niall says softly, handing him one of the coffees. “Let’s go walk to the park. It’s so fucking nice out.”
The casual swearing makes Harry crack a smile and he nods, more than ready to leave the coffee shop and the sexist barista behind.
They walk to the park slowly, holding hands and sipping their coffee through straws without exchanging a word. Niall leads Harry to a bench off to the side of the wide open space and they sit in the shade, each of them taking off their sunglasses. When Niall turns to face him, Harry braces for a conversation about what happened back there.
“So I told you that my alpha broke up with me,” Niall says instead, “but I never told you why.”
“Oh, um, you don’t have to–”
“I want to.” Niall sips through his straw, hollowing his cheeks. The sight makes Harry feel kind of squirmy but he’s not sure why. “So we met on an app and dated long distance for about a year. And he kept telling me he wanted us to be closer to each other, in the same city. And it was easier for me to transfer at work than it was for him. Or that’s what I thought at the time. Now I’m not sure if he even bothered to try.”
Harry frowns, but doesn’t interrupt Niall’s story.
“So we moved in together, and I thought it was going to be, like, bliss. You know? Had stars in my eyes about little things like brushing our teeth together at night. Going to the grocery store. Domestic stuff like that. Stupid.”
“That’s not stupid. That sounds really nice actually.”
Niall shrugs, looking off into the distance as he continues, “It was nice at first. Like a honeymoon period or something. But then it just kept getting more obvious that he had certain expectations. I like things neat and clean, so I never minded keeping the house in nice shape. I’d do that anyway because I know it’s important to me; I wouldn’t expect my partner to do it for me. But he thought I should be the one to cook all the meals, do all the grocery shopping. Alone. He never asked me about my day, just expected me to listen to him ramble on about his work, like it mattered more or something. I think…” Niall sighs. “I think I was too independent for him. Not a good enough omega.”
Harry’s heart sinks. He reaches for Niall’s hand and rubs his thumb over Niall’s knuckles, hoping the touch is soothing.
“And then he left. Moved his things out while I was at work. There was a note on the counter when I got home along with his key. I tried texting our friends, but they all iced me out. Guess I wasn’t good enough for them either. But you know what? Forget him and forget his friends if they don’t like me exactly as I am. I like me as I am. So I just focused on moving forward, rearranging the house so it felt like my space instead of ours. Staying on track at work. Keeping busy. Ignoring it when I felt like crap – until I couldn't anymore. I feel like such an idiot for blowing off the depri symptoms now. It’s my fault it got so bad.”
“I think a lot of people would have done the same thing, Ni. Including me.”
“Yeah,” Niall says with a rueful smile and a shrug. “I guess so.”
“Did you ever… uh, no, nevermind.”
“What, H? You can ask me anything.”
“Did you and your alpha, um, bond?”
“Nah, I kept putting it off. I think deep down I knew he wasn’t the one, that something wasn’t right. Pretty relieved about that now, the depri would’ve been a thousand times worse if he broke a bond.”
Harry sighs, relief traveling through his veins like a drug. He was pretty sure they hadn’t, he probably would have seen some of the scar while they were spooning if Niall had been bonded, but the confirmation pleases his alpha, makes him purr contentedly. He doesn’t realize it’s loud enough for someone else to hear until Niall chuckles.
“That’s so cute, your little purr. I’ve never been with an alpha who did that before.”
Harry’s eyebrows shoot up before he realizes that Niall must have meant “been with” as in physically been in the presence of, not “been with” like… like been with. Flustered, he takes a long sip of coffee, looking around the park as he tries not to think about whether he wanted Niall to mean been with or not.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I know all this secondary gender stuff is really personal. But I wanted to talk to you about my ex because I’m not a stereotypical omega and I don’t mind if you’re not a stereotypical alpha. In fact, I think it’s pretty fucking cool.”
“You know,” Harry starts, chewing on his straw for a moment. “It seems like you only swear when you want to lighten the mood.”
“Yeah, I got a nephew back home, he’s about to turn five. Had to get out of the habit of swearing around him and it kinda stuck.”
“A nephew? What's his name? Can I see pictures?”
“Yeah, ’course.” Niall pulls out his phone and unlocks it. “This is Theo.”
The rest of the afternoon at the park is spent sharing photos and stories about their families. They sit on the bench as people walk by, laughing in their own little world. It isn’t until Niall shivers that Harry realizes how long they’ve been there.
“Come on,” he says, standing and reaching for Niall’s hand. “Let’s go home.”
*
When Harry wakes up the next morning, there’s a rich, woodsy scent wrapped around him. He’s so warm, so comfortable in the nest, that he doesn’t even open his eyes as he breathes in the velvety fragrance. It only takes a few deep breaths to identify it as sandalwood, his favorite of the selection of Diptyque scents he has at home. The aroma, somehow as soft and sweet as it is strong, blends well with Harry’s jasmine, and he smiles into his pillow, happily ensconced in the soothing space.
Eventually he wakes up enough to realize that the scent of sandalwood isn’t just in the air. It’s coming from Niall, who’s snuggled up to Harry’s back with an arm slung around Harry’s waist. He freezes, unsure what to do. He had some concerns coming into this week, but waking up with Niall spooning him wasn’t one of them. His distress bleeds into his scent, ruining the perfect fragrance he’d woken up to, and Niall pulls him closer, tightening his grip on Harry even though he seems to still be asleep. There’s a calming note in the air, and Harry relaxes against Niall’s body, too tired to do anything about the fact that the omega who he’s supposed to be caring for just scented him instead of the other way around.
He falls back asleep, only to be woken up again an indeterminate amount of time later by the feel of Niall’s hand caressing his tummy. It tickles and he starts giggling, which encourages Niall. After a minute or two of light tickling, filled with laughter, Niall stills his hand and buries his face against the back of Harry’s neck.
“Sorry,” he says, his morning voice low and scratchy. “This is another thing my alpha hated. I like to be the big spoon.”
“I actually prefer being the little spoon,” Harry confesses, resting his hand on Niall’s. “We fit.”
The words hang in the air along with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood blending in harmony. Neither of them move until Harry’s phone buzzes by the side of the nest. He reaches for it, holding it up to see the display of incoming texts from Liam.
“He wants to know how you’re doing. And if I can make this Zoom happy hour he organized for our college friends today. I don’t have to–”
“You can Zoom from here if you want. We can use my laptop. If you don’t mind, I, uh… owe him a thank you.”
Logically, Harry knows what Niall means. His touch deprivation is getting better, his scent is coming back. And Liam is the one who made that happen by introducing Niall to Harry. Of course Niall feels like he owes Liam a thank you. But as he lies there in Niall’s arms, Harry has to admit to himself that he’s hoping Niall means thank you for more than that.
A lot more.
He replies to Liam’s text, asking him to send the meeting invite again because he knows he deleted it the first time, and they get up and go through their routine. Niall feels well enough to take a long hot shower, agreeing to leave the bathroom door ajar so Harry can come in if he needs help. They drink tea and watch Bake Off, cuddle and scent, and act like everything is normal. But a slight tension permeates the morning, the knowledge that something has shifted between them and neither of them appears willing to address it yet.
When the time for happy hour rolls around, they sit at the kitchen table in front of Niall’s laptop. Unlike when they eat there, they're sitting on the same side of the small table, huddled together so they both appear on screen. Niall had insisted on actually observing happy hour, merely laughing at Harry’s disapproving frown, so there’s a beer in front of him and a glass of white wine in front of Harry. They wait a few minutes past the meeting time because Harry likes fucking with Liam, just a little bit – and it turns out that Niall does too – and then they click the link to join.
There are four other boxes on the screen, each containing the smiling faces of Harry’s oldest friends, and he waves hello as they all greet them. Loudly. It looks like they got happy hour started early.
“Niall,” Liam shouts to get his attention over the din. “You look so much better! How do you feel?”
“Hiya, Liam,” Niall says, waving at the screen. “I feel so much better, my scent’s coming back and everything. Can’t thank you enough for introducing me to this one.”
There’s a chorus of “woo” and “Ni-allllll” and “who’s this?” from the other boxes, making Harry blush. He rolls his eyes before he starts introductions.
“Okay, you know, Liam,” Harry says to Niall, pointing to the screen. “That’s Louis and his boyfriend Luke. In the corner there, that’s Zayn. And Sarah and Mitch and their cat are there on the left.”
“Hello, lovely people,” Niall says cheerfully. “I’m Niall. Liam and I go way back, he introduced me to Harry, who’s been helping me out with a case of depri.”
They all talk over each other, offering sympathy and assuring Niall that he doesn’t look sick before turning on Harry and accusing him of keeping secrets. He sips his wine, smiling over the edge at Niall and ignoring how ridiculous his friends can be.
“Okay,” Liam says, clapping his hands until the group quiets down. “Trivia? Trivia? Trivia?” He points to each screen and waits for their answer before moving onto the next. “Alright, trivia!”
It’s actually a lot of fun, playing a lame game with his drunk friends over Zoom. Harry and Niall laugh a lot, and their relative sobriety helps them answer questions correctly. They’re declared the winners at the end, and they turn to each other for a hug.
“It’s not about winners or losers,” Harry says to his friends onscreen. “But we won.”
They all boo in unison and Louis goes so far as to throw his crumpled up piece of scrap paper at the camera. After another half hour or so of talking, the call seems to be winding down and Niall clears his throat.
“Thanks for letting me join, guys. This was really fun.”
“Liam, you should add Niall next time,” Zayn says. “Even if Harry blows us off like he usually does.”
“Dunno what he sees in Harry,” Louis says, “but we like Niall.”
“We want to keep him,” Luke adds. “Harry, we could go either way.”
“All in favor?” Sarah asks and Mitch raises his hand next to her.
After a round of “aye”s, Harry can’t bring himself to protest the teasing because of the pleased smile on Niall’s face. He’s proud of his friends for being so friendly and welcoming, without even knowing that Niall’s ex’s friends ditched him after the breakup.
“It’s official,” Liam declares. “Niall, you’re part of the group. I’ll text you before I set up the next happy hour, I want you to pick a theme. We’ll do costumes!”
Everyone groans, including Niall, but Harry doesn’t join in. He just wraps his arm around Niall’s shoulder and smiles at his friends. Zayn starts a round of goodbyes before leaving the meeting, and everyone else follows suit pretty quickly. Niall closes the laptop, and glances over at Harry.
“Well, boss? What’s for dinner?”
“How’s your appetite?”
“Better, I’m starving.”
“Wanna order Five Guys? With milkshakes this time? We can watch a movie while we eat.”
“God, that sounds great. I’ll order, you pick a rom com. Deal?”
“Deal.”
*
Harry wakes up in Niall’s arms again the next morning. Their last morning. It’s been a week now and Niall looks back to his old self, going by the photos that Harry’s seen. There’s no ragged edge to his breathing or signs that he’s overexerting himself. He’s not hunched over, he doesn’t look cold in his t-shirt and capri-length gray sweatpants. His scent is strong. There’s no reason for Harry to stay past today. They both have their lives to get back to. They haven’t talked about whatever was in the air between them yesterday and Harry tells himself that it was just a fluke. Their instincts getting mixed up due to their circumstances. Once he leaves, everything will go back to normal.
Except that Harry catches himself… looking at Niall. Even after he’s aware of it, he can’t stop. Niall is freshly showered and there’s a healthy shine to his light brown hair. Instead of shaving his facial hair completely, he’s left neatly trimmed stubble, which accentuates his jawline. Even his eyes seem to be a brighter blue today. When Niall reaches into a cabinet, Harry admires the curve of his arm, then the flash of skin that appears when his t-shirt rises. And when Niall turns, Harry’s eyes drift down to the small bulge hugged by the thin, light gray material.
That’s when he drops the bowl he’d been holding.
Luckily it’s plastic, so it doesn’t break, but Niall takes one look at his face and Harry can tell he knows something is up. Avoiding his gaze, Harry bends down and picks up the bowl and wooden spoon but then Niall appears with a sponge to clean up the egg whites that Harry has been stirring. When they’re done, they both straighten up. Harry bites his lip, trying to think of something, anything, to say.
“Say, H,” Niall says, pausing as he looks into Harry’s eyes. “How about I put on some music?”
Harry huffs a startled laugh, nodding. The relief that accompanies the realization that Niall’s not going to force a serious talk, a preemptive rejection, lightens his mood a little and by the third or fourth song, they’re both dancing around the kitchen as they continue cooking breakfast. As Harry does his Mick Jagger impression, getting into Niall’s space as he throws his hands up, Niall just laughs, and Harry starts to think he’s going to be okay with being friends.
That is, until the next song comes on. It’s more of a ballad, a cover of an oldie that Harry recognizes but can’t quite place. He’s already in Niall’s space, which makes it easy for Niall to guide Harry’s hands to his shoulders before circling his around Harry’s waist, drawing him into a slow dance. After a moment of panic, he relaxes in Niall’s arms; it feels natural to sway with him as he hums along, the soothing scent of sandalwood in the air.
“Try a little tenderness,” Niall sings along. He pulls Harry closer, murmuring into his ear, “You know, H, that’s what you gave me this week. A little tenderness, just when I needed it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Harry breathes, his eyes filling with tears. He’s grateful that Niall can’t see his face, doesn’t know how his words sound to Harry. But he forgot that Niall would be able to pick up on the sad note that cuts through his jasmine scent.
“Harry?” Niall draws back, eyes searching Harry’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“I just, um…” Tears fall down his cheeks, and Niall lifts a hand to wipe them away. “I think my alpha is confused.”
“I don’t think your alpha is confused,” Niall says, no trace of teasing in his voice. A smile tugs at his lips. “I think your alpha likes taking care of me. Being with me.”
“I don’t want to take advantage,” Harry protests, shaking his head. “You’re in a vulnerable position, and I’m an alpha, and you–”
“You don’t really think you’re taking advantage of me, do you? I know it’s only been a week, H, but I know you, you would never do that.”
“I… I, um…” Harry tries to think, but it’s hard when he’s wrapped in Niall’s arms and his scent. He knows there are more reasons that this shouldn’t happen, but they’re just out of reach.
“Stop me if I’m wrong,” Niall says, squeezing Harry’s hips. “But I think you started closing yourself off a long time ago so you wouldn’t get hurt again, and maybe it’s scary to open yourself up to possibility. To me.”
A few more tears fall down Harry’s cheeks as he nods.
“And maybe you’ve been telling yourself that I’m not feeling the same thing you are because of biology or whatever other bullshit reasons you could come up with, so now you’re having a hard time believing it, but it’s true, H. I’ve been falling for you this whole time, and it’s not because of the depri. It’s because of you. I like you, just as you are, to borrow a line from that movie we watched last night that you like so much. You’re beautiful, and more than that, you’re a beautiful person, and I don’t want to let you go without giving this thing between us a chance.”
Harry looks into Niall’s eyes. He can’t keep denying that the connection they’ve had right from the start has always gone beyond a friend doing a favor. He has to be brave and open himself up again, because that’s what Niall is doing for him. Niall, who’s been hurt before, too. Niall, who just quoted Mark Darcy for him. Niall, who’s made him feel safe since the minute they met.
Niall, who’s waiting very patiently for him to say something.
His mind made up, Harry leans in and brushes his lips against Niall’s. It’s soft and fleeting and perfect, and as soon as it’s over, he wants more. He kisses Niall again and then again, registering in the back of his mind that Niall is letting him lead this time. Showing him the same tenderness by letting him feel out what he wants and how much he wants of it. And that’s when he knows that even if he gets hurt at some point, it’s worth it.
Niall is worth it.